


Steppin' Out

by Crollalanza



Series: The Captain and his Vice [24]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domesticity, Future Fic, M/M, daisuga parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:44:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9523790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: 'This, Sugawara Koushi is a kidnap situation, and you’re coming with me.'With Suga working all hours, he's barely had time to think, so Daichi resorts drastic measures to ensure they have some alone time.





	1. So tired of all the darkness in our lives

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for the beautiful Noemi (thewindraiser) because it's her birthday. It's daisuga and fluffy, featuring their daughter Emi, as well as some Karasuno favourites. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU AMAZINGLY TALENTED WRITER!
> 
> The title and lyrics are from a Joe Jackson song, which I keep hearing at the moment on UK TV. It's about escaping to be together, even if it's just for a short while.

_'We,_   
_Are young but getting old before our time_   
_We'll leave the T.V. and the radio behind_   
_Don't you wonder what we'll find_   
_Steppin' out tonight'_

 

 _Raw or poached_ , Daichi wondered. He cast a side glance towards the recipient of his culinary masterpiece, who was currently scowling at a pair of chopsticks, and debated asking for an opinion.

The trouble was, given the contrary nature of his breakfast companion, as soon as he dished up, the decision could be reversed and tears would ensue. (And he wasn’t entirely sure they wouldn’t be his.)

“Suga?” he called out hopefully.

“What?” The voice was a little higher than usual, the rapid rushed response of someone otherwise occupied.

“Raw or poached for the natto?”

“Natto?”  Suga queried, again not really listening

“Breakfast,” Daichi called back. “How does –”

“Natto, natto, natto!” shrieked another voice in time to a clatter of chopsticks on a bowl. “DAAADDDD _YYYYYYYYY_.”

“In a bit, Emi-chan,” Daichi soothed. Reaching across to the fridge, he pulled out a bowl of rice, sticking it into the microwave to warm through.

“Natto, natto, natto!”

“Yep, I’m getting it ready now,” he said, and turned round wondering if his smiley face or a frown would stop her being quite so fractious this morning.

She gave him a wide, wide smile, creasing up her dark eyes. “DAAD _YYYYY!”_

“Yes, my precious.”

“Dad _dy_ make Emi natto!”

“Daddy is making natto, that’s quite right, my beautiful blessing. I’m wondering about the egg.”

“Egg.” She stuck her bottom lip out, as if considering her options, then nodded thoughtfully. “Natto. Smelly. Poo.” Emi began to giggle, and he knew he must have moved his mouth, twitching his lips and now that she sensed weakness, she wouldn’t let up.

“Poo Poo Pooooooo, Dadd _yyyyyy_!”

“Not helpful, Emi-chan,” he murmured and took an egg from the fridge.

“He is a big poo, Emi-chan, you’re absolutely right,” Suga agreed as he dashed in. “Where are my shoes?”

“ _Daaaa_ dyyy.”

“Hello, beautiful.”Suga kissed her on the cheek, eyes not quite on her, but flicking around the room.

“By the door where you left them?” Daichi suggested.

“Clearly not. And I don’t mean my trainers, but smart shoes, Daichi. I’m not wearing this fu- ... uh ... this suit for jogging,” he snarled.

“Half a suit. You’ve lost your trousers,” Daichi countered, stopping briefly to flash Suga’s legs an appreciative look.

“Because I splashed water on them so they’re drying on the radiator. That doesn’t solve the shoe problem.”

“Wardrobe?”

“I looked.”

“When was the last time you had them?”

“If I knew that,” Suga replied, and it was clear he’d gritted his teeth, “I wouldn’t be  - OH...” His face cleared; the frown uncreasing.  “Emi!”

“ _Daaa_ dy!” she replied, lolling her head from side to side.

“Our daughter has your shoes,” Daichi stated, trying to keep his mouth straight.

“Mm, sort of. I wanted to clean them yesterday and she found them and decided to play at being you.”

“Ah.”

Suga bowled out of the room. Daichi heard him open the door to Emi’s bedroom, returning with two black, leather shoes, noticeable mostly for being unpolished.

“Shi – uh – sugar, I forgot. Emi was having fun and I had to finish my –”

“Hand them over. Go and finish getting ready. I’ll sort your shoes out and then you can sit down and eat.” He took the shoes, then scrunched up his nose at Emi. “What are we having for breakfast?”

“NAAAATTTTOOOOOOO!” she yelled, clearly delighted.

“Great. Um, and poached,” Suga said, leaving the kitchen.

“What?”

Suga’s voice drifted towards him from their bedroom.“Poached egg because Emi-chan doesn’t like it too slimy, do you, little Miss Fusspot?”

“Musspot.” She giggled, then picked her chopsticks back up and drummed her placemat. “Don’t like ‘limey.”

Daichi watched, entranced by the sight of her as she became absorbed – albeit briefly – in her own world. At three years old, she was becoming aware that not everything revolved around her, and while this led to an increased frustration when she was told ‘no’, it was also opening up her world as she tried to push at her limitations.

“Shoes,” she said, interrupting his reverie. “ _Da_ ddy shoes.”  She frowned as if in reproach.

“Yep, and they need to be cleaned, Emi-chan.”

She seemed happy with that, not protesting when he stopped cooking to forage under the sink for the shoe polish.

When the shoes were polished, Suga dashed back into the kitchen. In a blue suit and grey shirt, he’d draped two ties around his neck – one plain blue, the other grey with diagonal pink and white stripes. “I can’t find my paisley tie.”

“Grey one,” Daichi offered.

“They’re conservative customers, but both of these are boring,” Suga argued, fingering each tie as he considered. He stared out of the window, the still dark morning glaring back at him and groaned. “I _should_ have had a haircut!”

Admiring the soft waves and fronds as Suga’s hair fell across his cheeks, Daichi shook his head. “You’re in advertising. They expect someone a little ... uh ... out there.”

“But I haven’t done this for ... forever!”

“Hey.” Daichi moved in, removed the blue tie and began to knot the grey one around Suga’s neck, easing it into place before turning down the collar. “They saw your ideas. That’s what they’re interested in.” He smoothed Suga’s hair behind his ears, then cupped his face to stare into his eyes. “They’re going to love you.”

“You’re biased.”

“Mmm, maybe, but I also know that you’re excellent at your job and you’ve been working hard on this, which is not easy when a certain person –” His eyes flicked Emi-wards , “- has not only discovered dress-up, but scribbling over any surface she can, and the delights of technology.”  He broke off and grinned. “How is your phone, by the way?”

“It survived the trial by toilet water thanks to burying in rice for two days, so you should be able to call me,” Suga replied, waving his phone in the air, and laughing when Emi shrieked with delight at seeing her favourite toy. “Hands off, Emi-chan. Daddy needs this today.”

She pouted, her lip trembling and it was now a toss up whether she’d dissolve into tears for having something taken away from her, or she’d settle for another distraction. Dangling the blue tie in front of her, Daichi pretended to whip it away just as she snatched it.

“Is Emi Kitty-chan?” he whispered.

She screwed up her nose, letting the tie drop. “Silly Dadd _yy”_

“I agree,” Suga said as he sat next to her. “I WANT MY NATTO!”

Raising his eyebrows skyward, Daichi pretended to huff as he cooked, his back turned to the pair of them as the chanting became more raucous and excitable. He’d be the one to pay when Suga had left; with Emi this high she’d crash once today’s partner in crime had left them, but for now he smiled.  She’d need more than a tie to distract her from Suga’s non-presence for the day, but fortunately he had just the thing planned.

“That was very yummy,” Suga said, pushing his bowl to the side. He dabbed at his lips with a napkin, exaggerating the gesture and ensuring Emi did the same. “What do we say to Daddy?”

“Fank you,” she sang, adding with a giggle, “Fank you, smelly poo.”

“Don’t laugh,” Suga whispered. “She’ll get worse.”

Instead, Daichi sighed overdramatically, finished his natto, twirling the last of the strings around his chopsticks, and made a show of wiping his mouth. “Remember the days when our beautiful blessing couldn’t talk?”

“Ah yes, all those hours we read to her, trying to tease out a first word.”

“Convinced it would be Daddy.”

“Cat, wasn’t it?”

“Ungrateful wretch.”

“Cat?” Emi chewed her lip, looking around the kitchen. “Where Fuffy?”

“Not here, sweetheart, but maybe the next time we visit Oikawa-san you can play with her.” Suga checked the clock, then his phone, blinked and hurriedly got to his feet.

He bent down, twisted a little away from Emi’s upturned face and the smear of food on her chin, and pecked a kiss on her brow. “Daddy has to go out, Emi-chan.”

She scowled, then lifted up her arms. “Emi out.”

“Not today. Stay here in the warm, and I’ll be back ... before you know it.”  He said everything with a smile, light and breezy, unflappable in a way Daichi knew he wouldn’t be in the face of Emi’s crumpling face. It wasn’t even as if she were a particularly clingy child, but Suga being the one to depart in the morning was shaking her out of her usual equilibrium.

Suga gave her a wink, and stroked her hair, not quite as fair as his own but just as beautiful. He bent down, whispering conspiratorially, “Take care of Daddy for me. He needs looking after, Emi-chan. Can you do that?”

Resolute, she tried to smile, and as Suga moved to the door, opening and closing his hand in a wave of goodbye, she waved back.

It was then that the slight tension in Suga’s shoulders, so at odds with the smile on his face, dissolved, and with a far deeper, but less wide smile on his face, he headed to the door.

“Not that you need it,” Daichi called after him, “but good luck!”

“Thank you!”

 The door slammed. Daichi waited. The door reopened, Suga dashing back in to pick up the car keys from Daichi’s hand, kissed him on the cheek, blew another kiss to Emi, then sped out the door.

“It’s just you and me, kid,” Daichi intoned, giving her the benefit of his lopsided grin.

She stared mutinously back. He kept the grin in place, but it clearly didn’t work on her in the same way it did on Suga, so he pouted instead. She laughed.

“Dadd _y_ is silly.”

“I am very silly,” he agreed.

“Dadd _y_ _not_ work.” There was a demand there, and a look daring him to defy her.

“Daddy is not working today,” he assured her. “I’m wearing my old jeans and not a suit because I have a day off from the stuffy office and my boring desk. Today -” he raised his hand and wiped away the remaining soybean from her chin. “- today, I’m planning an adventure, Emi-chan, as a surprise for Daddy.”

“Venture with Emi?”

He swallowed. This was the make or break. This was the point where he had to decide whether to go ahead with the plan, or revert to the norm.

“Different adventure, but Emi is going to have a lot of fun.”

“And sweets?” she bargained hopefully.

“Very likely, you incorrigible child, but not yet.”  He finished wiping her hands, then reached across for her bowl pleased she’d managed to finish most of it. “More juice for Madam?”

“Pweas and fank you,” she sang back pushing her cup towards him. “Emi wants a straw.”

“Then Emi shall have a straw,” he replied and bowed to her. “Blue or green?” 

“Lellow.”

“You sure?” he asked, finding the last yellow straw in the pack.

“MMM!” She nodded furiously.

Daichi poked the straw in the drink, bringing it to her as if he were a waiter.

“Want blue.”

“You said yellow.”

“Blue!”

“You’re a diva, Emi-chan,” he said and sighed, and although Suga had told him on no account was he to give into her whims, he reached for another straw.

“Green,” she demanded.

“Absolutely not. Three straws in one cup is excessive, Emi-chan.”

“What’s ‘cessive?”

“Too many. Far too many straws. Your teeny, tiny mouth,” he puckered his own lips and raised his voice, to what he thought was a tolerable impression of a little girl, “won’t get round them all.”

Then he rolled his tongue, poking it out at her, and booped her nose with his thumb. “Beep-beep! There you go, Miss Beepy Nose!”

She chuckled, declaring he was silly and then sucked through the straws, all thoughts of a green one now consigned to the past.

 _Distraction technique successful_ , he thought, metaphorically wiping his brow. _How the heck do you manage this every day, Suga?_

 

***

Rolling his shoulders, Suga heard the muscles – or was it tendons? – in his neck crick. The presentation complete, he heaved out a sigh, hoping the past month had been worth it and he’d landed the contract. Working from home was the ideal set up – normally. Certainly when Emi had been smaller, it had been much easier to fit in spates of work with her sleeping patterns, or at weekends when Daichi was around. He’d worked on small accounts and under someone else, instead of leading a team as he had before Emi’s birth. But then a prospective client had arrived and Suga’s particular background had lent itself so succinctly to the brief that he’d had ideas spiralling out of his mind and had put forward a proposal before he could even consider the impact on his home life.

“Sugawara-san?”

He blinked at the young girl approaching him, trying to recall her name. She was new to the agency, and he’d been introduced but it was with a flurry of other people. Fearful of getting it wrong, he smiled at her.

“Yes,” he said, continuing to beam.

“Akane-san needs to see you.”

He sighed. Before Emi’s birth, Akane had been his assistant. He didn’t begrudge her the promotion and knew she was worth it, but it was sometimes hard getting _her_ to realise that. When he’d been asked to head up this latest pitch, he had the feeling she felt slighted, which was why she’d become overly earnest whenever she spoke to him, trying desperately to appear the ultimate professional. They’d already had a debrief, and there was nothing left to go through, so he’d hoped to scoot home.

“Hmm, you couldn’t possibly pretend you hadn’t seen me, I suppose, could you?” he whispered, continuing quickly, “Only I have to get back to my daughter and –”

“She was most insistent,” she replied. “Something about firming up the stars for the campaign.”

“But I’ve already told her ...” He gazed over her shoulder at the door, wondering if he could make his escape. “I would really like to -”

But before he could slip away (he was thinking about the old ‘look over there!’ trick and scurrying out the door) Akane appeared at the end of the corridor.

“Sugawara,” she called out, a smile in her voice. “There you are.”

“Yes,” he replied, his teeth gritted. “Here I am.”

“Well done on the pitch.”

_You’ve already said that._

“Thank you. It was ... um ... fun doing it again,” he replied, and tried to edge closer to the door. “I was about to leave, so –”

But she was walking steadily towards him, determination engrained on her face, and short of making a run for it, there was clearly nothing her could do.

“Come on, I’ll walk with you.”

She smelt of jasmine, not faint like his mom’s, but rather overpowering. It wasn’t a fragrance he’d ever associated with her before, but then Akane, three years on, had changed more than just her scent. Her hair which had been cropped short, with blue coloured spikes, was now raven black and to her shoulders. Her clothes had changed, too. Suga remembered funkier clothes, shirts with cutaway shoulders, bubble skirts and crazy coloured tights. Now she wore suits, the uniform of a professional, but he was pleased to see the nod to her former style in butterfly earrings and a large ring stretching along the length of her middle finger, one he’d noticed she’d removed during the pitch.

As they walked, the unease he’d felt from her earlier appeared to dissipate, and she became the girl he’d once hired. She complimented him again on the campaign, then slowing her pace, she touched him on the arm.  “How’s Emi-chan?”

“Beautiful,” he said, and rolled his eyes. “A handful, too, but totally worth it.” Pursing his lips, he considered bringing out some photographs to show her, but that would only delay him even further.

“I do need to get back to her,” he reminded her instead.

She blinked, perhaps taken aback by his need to leave, to not want to spend more time in the workplace. Maybe they still thought it strange he’d changed the course of his career. (A career that although he was good at, he didn’t particularly like.)

“This really won’t take long Sugawara-san, but it’s about your contacts. I wondered how many would be on board, and whether they’d consider other campaigns? There’s another client, I’d like to introduce you to. Just one phone call now ...”

Another client? It would mean more money, but if it ate into his time like the last one had, then he wasn’t sure he’d dare to accept.

With nursery places at a premium, he’d scrapped for favours from the moms he knew, worked weekends when Daichi was around, and long into the night.

And now it was over, he was hoping for some peace. He was hoping for time to regroup.  A relaxed meal. He wanted sleep. To curl up with Daichi, Emi between them and doze together. Or maybe, he allowed himself to dream, Emi would sleep in and he and Daichi could indulge in something other than sleep.

Surreptitiously rolling his shoulders, he imagined Daichi massaging them, thumbs pressing into his muscles to ease away all the knots, leaving him relaxed and helpless as his fingertips danced down his spine.

But Akane was steering him towards a side office, and unless he legged it now, he was trapped.

Phone calls with prospective clients were never brief. She’d clearly set this up and was making it a conference call. And he wondered at that moment whether to just hand over his list of contacts – or rather his address book – give up the phone numbers she wanted and let her run the whole campaign. But although Noya and Tooru would probably have no problem getting involved in more advertising, Kageyama had been a reluctant participant, and he’d hate him to be badgered again.

“I’ve ordered a late lunch to be sent up to us,” Akane was saying. “Maybe we can run through some ideas first. It’s a sportswear company, so right up your street.”

“I’m not that hungry,” Suga protested truthfully because Daichi’s natto had proved very satisfying.

“Well, we can always save it for an early tea, perhaps,” she continued.

This time he couldn’t stifle the groan as his dream of a quick getaway disappeared. Tea meant he couldn’t feasibly be out of here before five.

The room she led him into was one of the small boardrooms. A table in the middle had been cleared and polished, but instead of laptops and pads of paper, there was a large china teapot on a lace mat. Two fine china teacups, silver spoons, and a small bowl of sugar cubes with tongs completed the picture.

“This is ... uh ...” Unexpected, he wanted to say, but thought that sounded rude.

“Thought we’d kick off with some tea, Sugawara-san.”

“That’s very kind, but ... um ... if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather _you_ contacted the client. Obviously if I can help, I will, but I’d be obliged if you’d postpone any in depth talks until I’m ... um ...”

“Oh, excuse me.”Akane retrieved a phone from her inside pocket, gave him a small sliver of a smile, and turned her back to him. “Yes, yes, that’s fine. I’ll come down.”

She turned back. “That was reception. It seems the client was in the area, and he’s decided to call in. Not a problem, Sugawara-san, I hope?”

“Well, actually-”

But it was too late. Without listening, she gestured to the tea, telling him to pour a cup.

“There’s only two –”

“I’ll fetch another one. I don’t even know if he likes tea,” she called back, a lilt in her voice.

He pulled out his phone, scowling at it then scrolled through to Daichi’s number.

**_< <Can’t talk but I’ve been called into another bloody meeting with another bloody boring client. Give Emi-chan a big big kiss and tell her I hope to be back in time to read a bedtime story.>>_ **

He hit send. Normally Daichi replied straight away, but if he was occupied, or possibly if Emi had decided to wash his phone, too, it could be a while. After staring mutinously at the screen, he reached across to the teapot, deciding he might as well take advantage of Akane’s generosity.

‘Beep beep’

_< <That’s a real shame. Maybe the account will be interesting.>>_

**_< <well it’s not a breakfast bar this time but sportswear. Think they’re hoping I’ll get Tooru on board.>>_ **

_< <Isn’t he already sponsored by someone>>_

**_< <you’re right. Most of the people I know are. I’ll make it ex players. Fancy a chance to get your ass in some tight shorts, Captain?>>_ **

_< <a new career beckons. I’ll head over now and bring my old kit!>>_

**_< <Please do! Ughh, better go I can hear footsteps. Better be responsible with Boring-san now.>>_ **

He put his phone away, switching back to silent, and waited, legs crossed at the ankles, and trying to look not only responsible and unbored, but creative and dynamic, by propping his elbow on the table.

And into his saucer. 

His teacup slipped across the table, he stretched and caught it, but not in time to save the saucer, which fell over the edge.

“Fuck!” he seethed, especially as the tea was hot and had spilt on his fingers. “Shitty shitty shitty ness!” Setting down the cup, aware the footsteps were ever closer, he dived to the floor to retrieve the saucer.

“Oh dear, I’ll fetch another cup,” Akane said, poking her head around the door. “And leave you with the client.”

“Wait ... what?  Akane!” His cry fell on deaf ears as she sped away. Still on his knees, he gaped at the empty space where she’d been, unable to believe she’d left without the courtesy of introducing them.  But there was no hope she’d recall her manners, so he started to rise, determined to brush over her oversight, with a smile.

A pair of shoes appeared first – well trainers – which he thought was odd, but then this was a sports company. But he blinked at the jeans.

Black jeans, with a slight fraying at the hem. His head shot up.

“Daichi! What are you doing here?” His throat dried with dread. He should not have left the house to head up this pitch. Something awful must have happened, something that had necessitated Daichi turning up without their daughter. “Is it Emi?”

But Daichi was grinning, as well as lolling against the door frame and looking impossibly pleased with himself.

“Pleased to meet you, Sugawara-san,” he announced. “I’m Boring-san, your client.”

“What?” He pulled on his sleeve, ready to yell at the dumb, dumb trick (and for scaring him like that.)  “Daichi, you can’t do this! Akane thinks you’re real. She’ll be really disappointed and think we’ve wasted her time for some stupid joke. Look, leave now, and I’ll explain you had to go and ... ”He took a breath; something odd occurring to him. “Hey, she’s met you tons of times. How did you manage to fool her?”

“I didn’t. Of course she knows who I am,” Daichi said. He stepped forwards, reaching out and tugging Suga to his feet, then pulled him really close. “Akane is my accomplice because this, Sugawara Koushi is a kidnap situation, and you’re coming with me.”

“What!” He wriggled a little, but Daichi had clamped his hands on his ass and was grinning his lopsided way, the sight of that smile still sending Suga’s insides a’flutter.

“You,” Daichi began, settling a kiss on his cheek, “have been working extra hard, and brilliantly, so Akane-kun tells me, and I’ve decided you need a break. So –” He loosened his grip. “Are you coming with me?”

“Ye- uh ... Where’s Emi?  Is she with the receptionists?”

“Nyope.”

“Daichi, please don’t tell me you’ve left her in the car.”

“She’s at home.”

He was still smiling, and it didn’t look like the grin of a madman who’d decided to leave a three year old home alone, but still  ... “Daichi, if you’ve called in another favour, my standing with the mum’s group will be mud.”

“Sug, calm down.” Placing his hands on Suga’s shoulders, Daichi stared into his eyes.  Suga was reassured by their warmth, and the fact his gaze was steady. “Who, outside of us, is Emi’s favourite person in the world?”

“Queen Fluffiana cannot babysit, Daichi. She’s a cat. A beautiful fluffy Persian, it’s true, but still a cat. And Tooru is away, so – Oh ... is Mum here?”

“Ah, not including Grandma either, who else does Emi love to pieces?”

A vision swirled in Suga’s head, black smoke wisping to form one figure, strong, commanding on court, but soft as feathers in real life. “I thought he was abroad,” he breathed.

“Came back two days ago and was only too happy to help.” Daichi leant forwards again, this time brushing his lips to Suga’s, waiting until he parted his mouth to slide in his tongue. Deliciously familiar, never tiring of that initial kiss – that so often was a prelude to more.  “So, are you coming with me? Leave all this behind and escape for a while?”

“He’s really back?”

Daichi nodded.

“And Emi’s happy?”

“Emi has an even bigger goofball than me to torment, and is ecstatic,” Daichi replied, smiling wryly. “Whether Asahi will survive is quite a different matter.”


	2. With no more angry words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Daichi's plan is revealed and Emi finds a new playmate ... or two.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing Noemi's birthday gift.

Azumane Asahi had landed back in Japan two days earlier after two months abroad. Trained as a chef, he’d spent the last thirteen years working for others, hopping from his uncle’s restaurant in Miyagi to a sushi bar in Tokyo, before finding employment in one of the capital’s most cosmopolitan of hotels.

There he’d worked his ass (as Suga would say) off for ten years, taking minimal holidays, working long hours for not great pay, but learning his craft. Working his way up, he’d enjoyed (if that was the term) the position of Saucier, but had risen no further. He was largely independent in the kitchen, and not wishing to take on a managerial role, he’d been satisfied teaching apprentices and being left to his own devices.  Asahi was respected by all he worked with, but that wasn’t as important to him as being liked, which was one of the reasons he’d never aimed higher.

And then he’d taken off and not given a reason, just handed in his notice and walked away.

Sometimes he still wondered how he’d dared.

Most of the time he was scared for the future.

But he’d not regretted it.

Stepping off the aeroplane, he’d made it through customs, and searched for his phone. Suga, he knew from previous calls, was stressed about his work, so he called Daichi first, touching base to let him know he was back.

“How’s Emi-chan?” had been his first question.

“A handful,” Daichi had replied, sounding proud. He’d laughed, recalling some small incident the week before – where he’d found his shoelaces under her bed and she’d flat out denied any knowledge of them – and the happiness in his voice had been evident.

There was a little tension as well, but Asahi knew better than to press, leaving it to Daichi to feel comfortable enough to talk.

“You want to do lunch today?” he’d suggested, after the smallest of hesitations. “Suga’s busy, but I could slip out the office for an hour.”

And Asahi, having never been someone who could sleep easy on a plane and was longing for his bed, agreed.

He’d agreed because Daichi had suggested it. _Daichi_ had asked him – completely out of character – for lunch on that day, not letting him settle as he normally would.

Lunch had been good. Brief but good, a catch up and then a promise to invite him over soon. “Wait until Suga’s finished the project though, and caught up on sleep. You know what he’s like when he’s tired.”

“Crotchety?”

“Putting it mildly,” Daichi muttered, then cleared his throat. “Not to Emi, you understand.” He’d chewed his food for a while. “We’re fine, I promise. Busy and a little fraught, but things are good. Come over at the weekend and spoil Emi. She’s learnt a lot of new words, but sadly her favourite is ‘poo.’”

Asahi had listened. He’d smiled as Daichi talked with real warmth about his daughter and longed all at once to see the little girl he thought of as a niece.

“Why don’t I come over when Suga’s finished?” he’d suggested on impulse. “I could babysit and let you and Suga have some time alone.”

Daichi hadn’t exactly bitten his hand off, but he’d come close.

 

And now it was Friday and he was in their apartment, staring down at a little girl in navy leggings, a top with an elephant on it and a purple cardigan, who was scowling up at him.

He tried a smile. “Hello, do you remember me?”

She stared back, taking him in, and then after Daichi stroked her hair, she said, “’Sahi-san.”

“That’s right,” Daichi had joined her on the floor, crossing his legs and pulling her on his lap. “Asahi-san is –”

“Ducks,” she said suddenly.

“Uh...”

“Ah ...yes, that’s right.”  Grinning, Asahi followed suit and dropped to the floor. “We fed the ducks, didn’t we, Emi-chan. And there was a big grey goose that stole all the bread.”

“Naughty goose.”

“It _was_ a naughty goose.” He plucked his bag onto his lap. “Maybe we can go again and make sure the ducks get fed.”

“Not the goose.”

He shook his head. “Not the goose.” Then searched around for something else to say, because short of shutting the goose away, there wasn’t a lot he could do about it. “I bought you a present because I missed your birthday. Would you like it now?”

“That is too kind of you,” Daichi said. “What do you say, Emi?”

“Pweas and fank you,” she said, then held out both hands, waiting.

Asahi couldn’t stop the laugh, and plucked his duffle bag. “I went to Australia, Emi-chan. And they have lots of different animals there, but this one reminded me of you.”

She ripped at the paper, not understanding restraint, but only the frustration of being kept from something that had been promised. As Daichi bent over to try and help, she tore harder, then shrieked as the prize became visible.

“Nanimal!”

“It’s a kangaroo,” Daichi explained. “And there’s a baby in its pouch.” He winked at Asahi, before he enveloped her in his arms, laughing as she wriggled away. “I thought it might be a koala as she spends so much time wanting cuddles.”

“No, this is because I know Emi-chan loves bouncing,” Asahi whispered, smiling at her. She stared up at him, still not quite sure.“And that’s how kangaroos move. They don’t run or walk, but they jump everywhere. Boing, boing!””

“Boing, boing, boing!” Emi said, making the kangaroo jump on the carpet, then giggling, she removed the baby, making it do smaller hops on Daichi’s legs. “Baby kangaroo, Dad _dy!_ ”

“She’s brilliant,” Asahi said. “Picks up words really quickly.”

“Ah, well, she wanted to know where you were,” Daichi replied, getting up as Emi decided to move across the floor with her new toys. “So we showed her Australia on the map, and Suga bought her a book with animals in, so we were reading that. Do you want a drink?”

“Coffee would be great.” Asahi stayed on the floor, gazing at Emi, noticing how caught up in her own world she’d become, whereas the last time he’d seen her she’d needed almost constant attention. “She’s changed so much.”

“Ha, don’t let this lull fool you, but, yeah, she’s becoming more independent.”

“Fearless, too. Most kids are still scared of me.”

“How could she be? You’re her biggest fan,” Daichi teased, then backed out towards the door. “I’ll make coffee. Back in a minute, Emi. Take care of Asahi-san for me.”

“If you want to go –” Asahi ventured.

“I’ve got some time. Suga’s not out of the pitch yet. One of his colleagues said she’d text me.”

He was hesitating, Asahi could see and it was both disconcerting and amusing to see his once-so-commanding captain not quite sure if he was doing the right thing.

“We’ll be fine, you know?” Asahi murmured.

“I know, just ... uh ...” He sucked in a breath. “It’s usually Suga who explains why she’s being left with someone else. Look, if she plays up, or gets really upset and you can’t distract her then -”

“I have your number. Honestly, we’ll be fine.”

“Boing, boing!” Emi made the big kangaroo bounce over Asahi’s leg, casting him a shy glance.  He smiled gently back, and thus encouraged, she shuffled closer, making the baby roo hop onto his hand.

Daichi returned with coffee, one mug, and a cup of juice for Emi. He crouched on the floor, ruffled her hair, and kissed her on the cheek. “Emi-chan, Daddy’s going out now, but Asahi-san’s going to look after you. Is that okay?”

“Emi out?” she asked, her voice questioning but not demanding.

“Not with Daddy.”

She stuck out her bottom lip and the kangaroos stopped bouncing.

“Maybe I can take you out,” Asahi said quickly. “We could show the ducks your new toys.”

She thought about it, taking in his words, then touched Asahi’s hand. “Not naughty goose.”

He shook his head and mimicked her scowl. “Definitely not.”

Mouthing a thank you, Daichi, after one last kiss, and a hug, got up, collected his coat, and left for the day. It was nearly three in the afternoon, he’d said Emi had already eaten, but also said Asahi was free to cook anything he wanted.

Outside it was grey, the clouds darkening by the minute, the pre-emptive warning of a storm. Was she scared of thunder? Asahi had never asked, just knew that even at thirty-four years old, he still hated even the thought of them. But what if she demanded to go to the park? He’d already suggested it, and that was as good as a promise.

 _Distraction_.

 “Emi,” he said finally. “Asahi-san’s going to make a cake. Will you help me?”

She lifted her face to his.

 “Chockit?”

He looked out the window again. If Suga and Daichi didn’t have all the ingredients, then there was just enough time to get to the store before it began to rain.  “Yes, why not?”

 

***

Daichi drove. Not telling Suga where they were going, he only assured him that it wasn’t a long drive.

“What’s that in the back seat?” Suga asked, twisting around.

“Thick coats and a scarf.”

“So we’re going outside then.” Suga stared dubiously out of the window, eyeing up the dark clothes. “It’s not really the weather for it, Dai.”

“You don’t know what ‘it’ is yet, Koushi,” Daichi teased, slowing as they reached a corner. “Besides, I remember a time when the snow was thick on the ground, and we still had fun.”

“Ha!  We stayed in the car.”

“Your old rust-bucket.”

“You were always so vile about my car, but never seemed to complain when we made it to the back seat.”

Daichi’s lips twitched. “The backseat of this car is far more comfortable than the tin can.”

“Not if you don’t remove the car seat,” Suga replied, pretending to be sharp.

They drove in silence for a while, Suga nestling back in his seat, trying to relax his shoulders and clear his mind because it was obvious that Daichi had made plans for some alone time – an adventure – and Suga had to do his best to enjoy it, even if his attention was elsewhere.

“Go ahead and call,” Daichi said.

Suga extracted his phone from his pocket, then groaned. “No charge.”

“Use mine.”

“Mmm.” He accepted, but just as he was flicking to Asahi’s name, he hesitated. “This is no different from Mum looking after her, isn’t it?”

“Yup.”

“And the last time I called Mum to check, Emi got upset.”

“Yup.”

“But Mum’s good at calming her down, and Asahi might not know what to do.”

“Well, there is that, but when I left, she was bouncing a kangaroo off his leg and they were talking about ducks,” Daichi murmured. He slowed the car, ready to come to a halt. “Sug, if you want to call this off and go home, then tell me.”

“But you’ve planned this, and I know you, you’ll have thought everything out in detail and I don’t want your work to come to nothing.”

He pulled up at the side of the road, put the handbrake on and stifled the sigh welling inside him because this wasn’t going to work if Suga continued to fret, guilty that he’d had to spend so much time away from her already.

“Look,” he began, and reached over to take Suga’s hand. “If it makes things any better, then I’ve actually not planned that much. I was aiming for more ... um ... spontaneity, so if you want to call this off, then we can head back.”

“But?”

“No ‘but’. We’ll have an equally good time catching up with Asahi.”

“There is a but because you clearly want us to have time together.”

Daichi shrugged his shoulders, but he knew the gesture looked fake. Alone time because that had been at a premium in the past three months.

“Sug, I think what you're feeling is the guilt I feel when I’m stuck at work. It’s just that I’ve had three years to get used to it, and this is the first time you’ve been full on with an account since Emi was born.”

Suga said nothing, but he held Daichi’s gaze.

“It’s been beyond hectic recently,” Daichi continued.  “Not just your work, but I had that contract that kept me at work all hours, and any spare time has been spent with Emi.” He chewed his lip, then forestalling Suga’s next question, leapt back in. “She is the most important thing in my life - in our lives - so I do not in _any_ way begrudge the time we spend with her. But ...”

“We’re important too,” Suga finished. He inhaled sharply though his nose. “Drive on.”

“You sure?”

“Asahi will call us if anything goes wrong.”

“Yeah, he will.”

Even as he started up the car, Daichi felt the tension fade to mist. The odd wisp, the faint worry over their daughter – that was still there, and probably always would be – but it was contained now, and the need to enjoy this time, this adventure propelling them towards the horizon.

***

There was more mixture on her face and down the apron than in the cupcake case, Asahi noted, but resisted the urge to complete the task himself. While Emi dug a spoon into the bowl, then held it over another case, he watched on as she concentrated hard on ensuring the goo dropped correctly.  The batch usually made twelve cakes, but thanks to the spillages, and then Emi having to ‘test’ the mixture, they’d probably end up with eight. They were mismatched too. One spilling over the edges, another a mere blob, but he stopped himself from interfering, deciding to even things out just before he put them in the oven when Emi was washing her hands.

With flour in her hair, and a few of the chocolate chips, which had missed the cake entirely, smudging her lips and fingers, she knelt up on the chair, her tongue between her teeth as she focused, she waited for the last of the mixture to plop down, then beamed up at Asahi.

“All gone!”

There was at least another cake in the bowl if he scraped around with a spatula, but he nodded, then lifted her off the chair.  “I need to put them in the oven so they cook.”

“Hot. _Da_ ddy says, ‘Don’t touch, Emi-chan,’” she recited, her voice singsong.

“That’s right. It’s very hot, so I’ll put on the thick oven gloves and do it. But first, why don’t you wash your hands? Can you do that by yourself?”

She nodded, so he lowered her to the ground and waited as she trotted off to the bathroom. Quickly evening out the cakes, he was about to put them in the oven when the doorbell rang.

“DADDYYYYY!”  Emi cried, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw her run to the door.

“No,” he called out. “Emi, come back it won’t be –”

But she was at the door, reaching for the handle, while he still had a tray of uncooked cakes in his hand, an open oven door, and visions of a child snatcher ready to take her away if he didn’t get there before her.

Except she couldn’t reach the handle, and was instead peering through the letterbox.

She shrieked. Asahi clattered the cakes into the oven and ran to the door. He heard a faint tapping against the door, and then someone pleading, “Hey, sorry, did I scare you? Can you get your daddy?”

It was a voice Asahi’d not heard for nearly three years, not because they’d fallen out, but rather conflicting schedules meant any communications had been restricted to texts. That he was here was another surprise because the last Asahi had heard, Nishinoya Yuu was in Nagasaki, plying his trade as Libero, or else abroad with the National team.

“Nishinoya?” he called out, and scooping Emi up in his arms, trying to hush her indignant yells, he wrenched open the door.

“ACE-SAN! What are you doing here?”

Noya stood there, shivering in a leather jacket and tight black jeans, a holdall over his shoulder, and hair slicked back over his ears – the epitome of cool (or at least what passed for cool in fifties America, which might well be cool now, Asahi had no idea).

“Looking after Emi for the day,” Asahi explained. “What about you?”

“Uh, just thought I’d surprise the guys and this sweet-pea.” He leaned across, reaching out to tickle Emi under the arm, but she squirmed and shrieked, burying her head in Asahi’s shoulder.

“Gah, my way with the ladies sure as hell ain’t improved,” he said and sighed. “Sorry, Emi-chan, you probably don’t remember me. I guess it was over a year ago.”

She sobbed a bit more, muffling each cry into Asahi’s shirt. He stepped to the side, waving at Nishinoya to come in.

“Emi-chan,” he whispered. “This is Nishinoya Yuu. He’s a friend of your Daddies, and mine.”

She sniffed, but refused to look up, clinging on tighter.

“Uh, shall I go?” Noya offered. “I could come back when they return.”

“No, come in, they’ll be pleased you’re here, and Emi just needs to warm up to you.”

He put her on the floor, intending to return to the kitchen, but she clutched hold of his leg, locking looks and refusing to turn towards Noya.

“Never thought I’d see the day when a kid’s more scared of me than you, Asahi-san,” Noya joked, seemingly not at all put out. “I’ll ... uh ... sit down, leave you guys for a bit.”

Out of sight, Emi lessened her grasp, but followed Asahi when he returned to the kitchen.  Wiping her face, and removing the apron, Asahi sat her on the chair and wondered how to approach this.

“Nishinoya-san plays volleyball, Emi,” he began. “We used to play together with your daddies.”

She stared at him, looking dubious, and he was reminded so strongly of Suga when he was unsure, that he had to bite his lip not to gasp at the resemblance for fear of startling her even more.

“Voyball.”

“Yup, that’s right. And Nishinoya was the Libero. He dived around all over the place, just like a bouncy kangaroo.” While she digested that information, he checked the oven temperature and set the timer.  He opened a cupboard, fetching two mugs for coffee, and his attention was caught by a picture on the fridge. An old one from sixteen years before, held up with a shrimp magnet.

“Here he is,” Asahi said, removing it to show to her. “Look, that’s me, there’s –”

“ _Da_ ddy and Dad _dy._ ”  She smiled, and pointed to more people. “Yachi-san and Shimizu-san, Tanaka ... um ... Ennoshita ... Kinoshita and Narita,” she recited.

He pointed to a figure on the end, not in black but orange. “And look, there’s Nishinoya.”

“Noya,” retorted Emi. “That Noya. Dad _dy_ said so.” She giggled. “Funny hair.”

Ah, that was it. Noya’s hair now was longer but not spiked up today, and the gold crest he’d favoured back in the day had been replaced with his current team colours of red.

Her finger slid up to the tall boy in the back row. “Tsuki- Tsuki –”

“Tsukishima,” he filled in for her, “but, yes, I’m sure he won’t mind if you call him Tsukki.”

“Ha, wanna bet. Tsukki would defo call out a baby for using the wrong name, no matter how cute.” Noya stepped forwards, got halfway towards them, then hesitated and dropped to the floor, sliding across on his bottom. He flipped his hair of his face, running his hands through his hair, until a shock of it flipped upwards, exposing a red streak in need of a touch up at the roots. “Hey there, Emi-chan, recognise me now?”

“Noya-san,” she said, a little shyly, and then she smiled, a little lopsided grin, “Rolling funderrrrrr!”

“Ha ha, that’s right, kid,” Noya chuckled.  “Rolling Thunderrrrr!”

After that, she seemed less unsure, allowing Noya to take her hand and lead her back into the lounge while Asahi cleared up and waited for the cakes to bake.  He heard some chuckling from the room, a few more ‘boing boings’ from Emi, and then Noya’s voice as he chatted away to her.

“You’d be a great Libero, Emi-chan!”

_He’s brought a bag, quite a large one for someone just dropping by._

“And Libero’s the coolest position.”

“’bero.”

_And he’d not called first. Unless he’d left a message and Daichi hadn’t got it._

The timer went. Pressing the cakes with his finger, watching as the sponge sprang back, Asahi rested them all on the cooling tray. He picked up a cloth, wiping down the surfaces, then loaded up the dishwasher.

Noya’s voice lilted through the air, counterpointed by Emi’s giggles.

“And I have a present for you, kiddo!”

“Pweas and fank you,” she trilled, right on cue.

_Why are you here and not training? What have I missed?_

***

The clouds were darkening, but up ahead there was a small patch of blue that they headed towards. Daichi was drumming his hands on the steering wheel as he drove, eyes on the road and the rear view mirror, occasionally flicking to check on Suga.

“Swanky restaurant?” Suga suggested.

“Huh?”

“I’m still guessing.”

“You guessed that two kilometres back,” Daichi replied. “And I’ll apologise again, because no, it’s not a restaurant, swanky or otherwise.”

“Bird watching, then,” Suga said, sounding cross.

“Goshdarnit, I forgot the binoculars,” teased Daichi and he inclined his head, putting on an infuriatingly mature voice. “Patience, Koushi-chan, patience.”

“I _will_ thump you!”

Daichi grinned, infuriatingly cheerful. “I know. But you’ll do that anyway before the day is out, so I might as well tempt fate now. Get it over and done with.”

Suga smacked his lips together. “Okay, how about you tell me now, and I promise double kisses and –”

“Promising sexual favours now? You’ve changed tack, Koushi,” Daichi laughed, his shoulders shaking with mirth.

“Maybe I’ll withhold them,” Suga replied primly.

Daichi’s snort was enough of a reply, without the ‘As if’ he added at the end.

“Dai, please. How about a tiny clue?”

“All right.” Daichi cleared his throat. “Remember when we first got together.”

“Of course. Best consolation for losing a match there ever was.”

“And then I had to go away for Spring Break.”

“Ah, yeah, not so good.” Suga sighed and turned to look out of his window. “I had a week of thinking you’d change your mind.”

“It was four days, Sug, and we texted continually.”

“Still didn’t stop me worrying. I’d liked you for such a long time.” He turned back to Daichi. “What does this have to do with where we’re going today? You can’t possibly be driving us back to Miyagi.”

“I came back from that trip full of mixed thoughts. I knew I wanted to see you, knew I couldn’t keep away, but it was starting to hit me just how difficult it was all going to be.

“I waited on that jetty a good thirty minutes before you turned up, and wondered a lot. At one point I thought about leaving because –” He stopped as Suga gasped, and taking his hand off the wheel, touched him on the hand, “- because I thought you might have had second thoughts too.”

“Never!” Suga exclaimed vehemently.

Daichi smiled. “And then I saw you with that daft dog bounding in the waves. You were wearing your blue scarf and there was a beam of sunlight breaking through the clouds that seemed to illuminate your path and ...

“I knew then that I didn’t care how difficult it might be. We had to have a chance because not trying was unthinkable.”

“Oh.”

There was a long silence. Daichi could practically hear the thump of Suga’s heart in time with his own, and as he glanced sideways, he saw a faint blush on Suga’s cheeks, his lashes swooping downwards. Just as beautiful as that early morning beach walk, with his hair whipped by the breeze and Luna splashing at their feet.

“It’s not Miyagi,” Daichi said at last as they reached a fork in the road. He indicated right, taking the coastal path. “But I wanted to walk along the beach, hand-in-hand and breathe in some sea air. It’s kind of validating, don’t you think?”

Suga blinked. “Oh.”

“Sorry it’s not more exciting.”

“It’s perfect,” Suga whispered. “Thank you.”

 

The patch of blue in the sky had shrunk, swallowed up by ever greying clouds, and the wind whipping around them was far stronger than it had been that day in March seventeen years before.

There was no dog jumping in the waves, or an old man to disrupt tentative kisses. The beach wasn’t deserted, a few fishermen had hopefully cast their lines and were waiting for a return on their patience, but the older Daichi didn’t care about disapproving glances. He took Suga’s hand, hunched his shoulders against the wind and began to walk.

They didn’t need to talk, silence was never awkward between them, but Suga chatted a little, seemingly not needing answers, but talking through the thoughts in his head about his pitch and the account. It was his way of working through the excess in his brain, Daichi knew that, clearing the decks so he could enjoy the rest of the day.

“We’ll have to bring Emi here,” Suga said at last. He didn’t sound mournful, or guilty, but contented, taking in lungfuls of the sea air, his words almost lost in the crashing waves.

“When it’s warmer,” Daichi agreed. “She’ll be jumping in that water before we can stop her.”

They were silent again, Suga edging closer so their shoulders knocked together, not springing apart when someone jogged along the beach.

“I know they say you can never go back, but I do love a little wander down memory lane,” Daichi said. “Do you remember playing hooky going back to the beach when we’d lost to Seijou?”

“Mmm, I thought you were going to be miserable. Your face was one big scowl on the bus, but as soon as we reached the coast, I could see the clouds clearing.”

“I was thinking more about when you pulled me behind that rock and started getting very handsy. And then that group of schoolgirls suddenly appeared with their teacher to investigate rock pools.”

“Ha ha – Captain, you’re still blushing!”

“We were nearly discovered, do you blame me?”

Suga was still giggling, his eyes alight with mischief, and then, without warning (although really Daichi should have known because Suga had retained his shameless streak) Suga yanked him away on a tangent, heading towards the cliffs.

“You can’t possibly!” Daichi protested, but didn’t stop running. “Suga, this is madness.”

Suga twisted around, his face wreathed in smiles. “Come on Daichi, let’s pretend we’re seventeen again.”

But just as he spoke, there was flash renting the air, and then a loud boom of thunder as the clouds clapped back together.

And the heavens opened, rain pelting down in sheets and bullets, splattering the sand, and their clothes in equal measure.

“Someone up there’s not happy about this,” Daichi yelled.

“We’re getting soaked!” Suga shouted, and letting go of Daichi’s hand, he began to pound up the beach. “Let’s head back to the car.”

The wind picked up, sending the rain horizontal and biting. Despite the thick coat, Daichi was shivering and there was water running down his back. He followed Suga, catching up then keeping pace, grateful he still jogged in the mornings so his lungs didn’t scream with the exertion.

“Well, that was romantic!” Suga laughed as they reached the car.

“Shared experience,” Daichi said, hurriedly unlocking the car.

“What’s the plan now?  Chasing the raindrops on the windscreen?” Suga replied, not tetchily but faintly amused.

“I told you, there’s not really a plan, just a need to escape. For a while.”

“And the back seat, as you said before, is much more comfortable than in my old car.”

“Only if I remove the car seat,” Daichi replied.

It would mean getting wet again, although as he was already soaked to the bone, he probably wouldn’t feel any wetter. Mind made up, he opened the door, then yelped as water sloshed on his feet. The grass they were parked on was awash with the rain, stems poking up like rice in a paddy field.

And the thunder began again, crashing so loud he would swear the car rattled.

“We should park somewhere else,” he decided, slamming his door.

Suga didn’t reply, his eyes on the dark clouds above, brow creased into a frown.

“I hope Emi’s okay. I don’t think she’s seen a storm this bad. And if we’re not there -”

Daichi leapt in. “Asahi is.”

“Yes, but we know he’s scared of them, too,” Suga replied. “I’m _not_ mocking him. It’s a fact, isn’t it. He’s never liked storms.”

“He’s fine if he’s inside, and because he’s scared, he won’t leave the apartment. And he’ll take care of her.”

“I’ll text him,” Suga said, holding out his hand for the phone. “You drive.”

Apart from the weather, it was quiet in the car. Suga had sent a text and watched the screen waiting for the reply, while Daichi drove. With the rain thick, his windscreen wipers were working extra fast, but it was still hard to see the path ahead, and it was slow going as they squelched through the coastal track.

And then his heart sank because there was a car ahead, one that had stopped in a dip in the road, apparently stuck and now – by the look of it – abandoned by its driver.

“We’ll have to go back,” Daichi said. “Or else we can park up on this higher ground for a while and wait for the rain to stop. I don’t want to risk getting stuck.”

He expected Suga to worry, to fret, or get angry and rage that they had to get home. His concern for Emi heightened by renewed guilt that he wasn’t there with her. And he was probably over thinking every scenario, imagining Asahi and Emi out in the storm, waifs getting soaked and Emi screaming for her daddies.

He blinked. It was his own imagination tormenting him this time, and he clutched the steering wheel as he tried to decide what to do.

Then Suga laughed.

Not hysterically. Not nastily, not as if he were in a panic. But his chuckle, a slightly naughty giggle and a snort.

Music to Daichi’s ears – even if the snort was a little pig-like.

“Suga, what shall we do?”

“Park up,” Suga said, and grinning he handed over the phone. “We can wait it out.”

“Huh” He snatched at the phone, wondering what on earth could have stopped Suga’s fretting. And then he understood. “Wow, Noya’s turned up!”

“Exactly,” Suga replied. “Emi has someone else to play with. She’ll be fine.”


	3. the colour of the lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A storm kicks in, inside and out.
> 
> Daichi and Suga seek to make the best of the day, while the Ace/Libero combo make a great childminding tag team.

Asahi wasn’t sure what was worse, the thunderclaps, the lightning flashing, or the windows rattling.

And then he heard Emi’s shrieks and he knew.

He had to help her.

If only he could move.

She was in her bedroom, having decided to take the kangaroos on a bouncy tour of the apartment. And he was in the kitchen, his hands plunged in the sink where he was washing up the baking tray that wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher.

_I should have stayed with her._

It was dangerous to wash up in a storm. His Gran had told him that.

And he was in a high building.

“Emi-chan, it’s okay.” Noya’s voice drifted towards him, shaking Asahi out of his petrification.

_We’ll be okay. There’s bound to be a conductor on the roof. And it’s better to be here if there’s a flash flood._

Flooding. He hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t just the tempest; the rain was relentless.

_Make a plan and it’ll be okay._

“Unplug things,” he muttered.

But the dishwasher was already going and he wasn’t sure if he could unplug it as it was built in.

“TV, I can do that.”

But not with wet hands. Rushing to dry them on a tea towel, he caught the flare of another lightning strike through the window and half -cowered.

“Hey.”

Noya was in the kitchen, Emi in his arms, now wearing the miniature kit he’d bought for her, her face as red as the shirt he usually wore to play.

“It’s just a storm, Emi-ch-chan,” stammered Asahi. “N-nothing to be scared of.”

“Yeah, she’s cool. I told her it was a lot of Liberos rolling around in the clouds.”

“But she’s –”

“She fell over, didn’t ya, sweet-pea?”

“Ouchy knee,” Emi said sniffling. “’Sahi-san kiss it better.”

“Of course I will,” he said, relieved beyond all measure, especially as her tears appeared to have stopped now. Sucking her thumb, Emi stuck out her leg. Reassuring himself that there was nothing monstrously wrong (it was just a little pink), he gave it a quick rub, then pecked his lips to it. She giggled, a little raggedly, it was true, for the sobs had not yet left her chest.

The storm raged on, windowpanes rattling and no matter what he did, no matter how hard he gritted his teeth, desperate not to show fear to convince himself that it would be okay, Asahi’s hands shook.

“Vewy LOUD. Naughty ‘beros!”

“Aww, they’re just practising and having a bit of fun. We could put the TV on to drown out the noise,” Noya said, talking to Emi. “Or you could find me your favourite DVD.”

“No,” Asahi rasped. “Not during a storm.”

Noya raised his eyebrows. _Really?_ his eyes implored.

“Please,” Asahi hissed.

“Oh-kay.” Shrugging, Noya stepped back, his focus drawn to something else in the room.  “So ... uh ... are we allowed to have a cake, Ace-san?”

“Um ...” His head cleared for a moment at the innocuous question. “Yes, I guess. They should be cool now. What do you say, Emi-chan? Shall we have a cake each?”

She nodded, looking round to where the cakes were arranged on a plate. But then as Noya reached out for one, she yelled a shill, ‘No!’

“Oh, am I not allowed one?” Noya asked, making his eyes wide and pouting out his lip.

“ _Da_ ddy’s cake.”

“Uh ... so can I have this one?” His hand drifted over another, one with white chocolate chips.

Screwing up her eyes and pushing out her lips, Emi shook her head again, her frown deepening. “Dad _dy_ ’s cake.”

“Is Daddy having them all?” Noya asked, then shot a comment out the side of his mouth. “Which one of them gets the cakes? That’s what I want to know.”

“It’s both of them,” Asahi explained, smiling warmly. “Emi made two cakes especially for her daddies. “The one with the white chocolate chips is for Daichi, and the dark chocolate chips is for Suga. She just told you that.”

“Huh?” Noya quirked his head to one side. “How was I supposed to know?”

Asahi tilted his head to one side, then reached across and touched Emi’s hair, running the silky strands through his fingers. “She says their names quite differently, haven’t you noticed?”

“Huh?”

“ _Da_ ddy is Suga and Dad _dy_ is Daichi.”

“Hey, that’s kinda cool. So, Emi,” Noya said, tickling her under the chin, “Am I allowed a cake?”

She pressed her finger in one, picking out one of the chocolate chips, then seemingly satisfied, picked up the cake and handed it over. And if Noya was in anyway repulsed that she’d handled the cake, he gave no sign, peeling down part of the case and taking a bite.  “Yummy cake, sweet-pea.”

“Not swee-pee,” she sang. “Emi is a booful bessing.”

Asahi was still chuckling when the lightning struck again, and then the clap of thunder shook the window frames, and for a moment, his head span at the thought of it all, how even inside and taking all precautions, he was chilled to his core.

“BIG funder!” Emi whispered, her eyes round and a little awed.

“Rrrrrrrrolling Thunderrrrrr!” Noya said, his voice taking on an air of mystery. His words were aimed at Emi, but his eyes were on Asahi. “When we finish this cake, how ‘bout Noya-san shows you just how it’s done? And Asahi-san can join in, right?”

Asahi’s breathing had calmed enough for him to be able to speak above a whisper, but all the same, he swallowed first in case the husk was still entrenched there.  Flinching when he saw another, albeit much smaller, flash, he tried to laugh when he realised it was his phone.

“It’s Daichi,” Asahi explained, picking it up to read the message. “Ah, no, it’s Suga. Wants to know if Emi’s okay with the storm.”

“Sure she is!”

**< <Nishinoya’s here,>>** Asahi typed. **< <You know what he’s like, always got our backs.>>**

***

Rolling around on the floor, with a giggling girl and a grown man wasn’t exactly how Yuu had intended to spend his Friday. He’d thought it would be more of a sitting down type of thing with Suga-san. Sure, he knew Emi would be there, and he had nothing against the kid, ‘cause she was hella cute, but he’d hoped – or rather needed – to sit and talk to someone who wasn’t currently tied up with his life.

Advice – it had been coming at him from every quarter, thick and fast like the rain, making his head thrum. Leaving for Tokyo, shaking off Nagasaki, he’d felt lighter than he had in months.  But he knew it was temporary. At some time, a decision would have to be made.

Stranded by conflicting opinions, it had been Suga’s text a week ago asking if he’d mind being part of a mock-up advertising campaign that had prompted his decision to come here. He needed help. He needed his senpais.

The thunder still clattered, the lightning still flashed, and even though he’d closed the blinds, the evidence of the storm was all around them. The senpais he’d sought out weren’t here.

But Asahi was.

“Hey,” he said, when there was a lull in their rolling and Emi was clambering up onto Asahi’s chest.

“Hmm?”

“Why d’you go to Australia?”

“Uh, holiday,” Asahi replied.  He took a breath. “I was due some, and always wanted to go.”

“By yourself?”

“I have some family there,” Asahi conceded, “but most of the time it was just me.”

“Not sure I could do that,” Yuu said, more to himself than Asahi.

“I needed a break.”Asahi placed his hand on Emi’s head, his other cupped underneath her legs, holding her in place as her giggles subsided. “Working in a kitchen is noisy, full of voices and shouts and bad temper.”

“Sounds like volleyball.”

But Asahi was shaking his head. “The head chefs I’ve worked with are mercurial to put it mildly. It would be like Daichi never holding it together.”

“He used to yell at me and Ryuu,” Yuu replied, quieter now because he could see Emi’s eyelids drooping and her thumb had returned to her mouth.

“Well, I’m not saying discipline isn’t necessary, but he was also encouraging, especially to younger players like Yamaguchi.”

“And head chefs aren’t?”

Asahi side-eyed him. “It’s cut throat in kitchens. No one sleeps, and everyone wants to get ahead.”

“Never woulda guessed at that,” Yuu mused. “Next time I eat a plate of noodles, I’ll check the waiter’s battle scars.”

Asahi didn’t reply. His breathing was even, and Emi now sprawled across him, rose and fell in the rhythm of his chest.

“Shall I move her?” Yuu whispered.

“Uh ... not sure. Maybe wait until she’s been asleep a bit longer.”

“Looks settled to me. I’ll put her to bed,” Yuu decided, and scooting across the floor, he bent down to pick her up.

Just as one rogue peal of thunder slammed at the windows.

Asahi jerked. Emi shrieked. And Yuu, his instincts finely tuned, slid his hands underneath her, just as she slid off Asahi’s chest.

No matter that he had the ‘safest hands in volleyball’, she was awake, shocked out of sleep, and screaming with a fair mixture of horror and outrage.

“DAAAADDYYYYYY!” she shrieked. “DAAAADDDDYYYY!”

_And I guess that’s both of them she wants as she’s not specified,_ he thought.

Holding her at half arms length, Yuu stared at her screechingly furious face and suddenly felt the most out-of-depth he ever had in his life. For the most part, kids liked him. Adults generally liked him. If they didn’t, he got over it pretty quickly, because, hey, you couldn’t have everything in life and sometimes you just had to move on.

It was a code he’d lived by all his life.

But he’d never been faced with this much hostility before, and certainly not from someone who was not only exceptionally cute, but whose change of mind had been so instant.

“WHERE DADDDYYYYY?”

“It’s me, Emi-chan,” he tried to soothe. “RRROOOLLLLLINGGGG THUUUUNDERRRRRRR!”

“DAAADDDDDYYYYYYY!”

And now there were tears, real tears, not thin trickles squeezed out in fury, but wracking sobs and fat drops plopping down her cheeks.

“Hey, hey. Uh ... um ...”

His saviour swooped in. Although whether it was _his_ saviour was up for debate, as Asahi was far more likely to be rescuing Emi, and as the lighting began again, the thunder striking up another cacophonic symphony, Asahi clutched Emi in his hands, rocking her back and forth, back and forth, assured and not desperate, to end her despair.

“Daddy?” she wailed.

“They’ll be back, Emi-chan,” Asahi murmured. “But it’s raining so they will have stopped so they don’t get wet.”

“I could call ‘em!” Yuu suggested, reaching for his phone. But he stayed his hand when Asahi leapt in.

“No, no, there’s no need for that. I’m going to read a book to Emi, and we’ll then ... um ... sing songs.”

“Ducks,” she sobbed, rubbing at her nose with her sleeve. “Emi see ducks.”

“Not today,” Asahi replied, whispering in her ear. “It’s too wet, even for them. They’ll be hiding in the reeds and protecting their nests, just like we’re doing now.”

It wasn’t just sympathy, or a way with kids, Yuu realised. Asahi had empathy, recognising fears and trying his hardest to deal with them. It was part of his past, his present and probably his future. It was who he was.

_And it’s who I was and am and can be that’s important,_ he thought, _and not the opinions around me._

“Hey, Noya-kun,” Asahi murmured, his dark eyes glancing over Emi’s head.

“Ace-san?”

“Want to make some coffee, and maybe fetch more cake?”

“Thought we shouldn’t plug things in?”

“Storm’s clearing,” Asahi replied. “The gap between the lightning and thunder is getting wider.”

As if to back up his point, the lightning flared again, but instead of flinching, Asahi cradled Emi’s hand, dappling with his fingers and began to count ‘One kangaroo, two kangaroo, three kangaroo.’

“Thought it was ‘elephant’,” Yuu said, laughing but gently.

“We like kangaroos, don’t we, Emi-chan?”

“Boing, boing,” she whispered, a little quavering, but her tears were subsiding.

He was pouring the water out when Asahi joined him in the kitchen. Apparently the worst was over for both the storm and Asahi’s fears because he’d let Emi watch television. Outside the rain still drummed at the windows, the squall not letting up simply because its more dramatic playmates had drifted away from the capital.

“You have a knack with her,” Yuu said.

“She’s a good kid,” Asahi murmured. He stared out the window, pressing his forehead against the pane. “Sorry I shouted.”

“You did?” Yuu scratched his head. “I don’t remember.”

“I didn’t want you to call Daichi. He said they were going to go to the beach.”

“Nice weather for it.”

“Mmm, I didn’t want guilt to plague their day off. It’s bad enough they’ll be trapped in the car. And Emi’s tears are easy enough to cope with.”

“As long as you don’t have a dumbass like me making them worse,” Yuu said, flashing him a wry smile. “I didn’t think.”

Asahi continued to watch the rain, raising his hand to trace the drops on the glass. And Yuu wondered what was going through his mind, but he didn’t want to ask, scared of the answer because then perhaps he’d have to open up, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for that.

“Why are you here, Nishinoya?”

“Told ya. I’m visiting.”

“Don’t you have a home fixture this weekend?”

There it was. No more prevarication. Asahi, when on form, could slam through the highest of walls.

“I’ve been dropped.” He shrugged, then seeing Asahi turn around, he backtracked smoothing a smile on his face. “Rested, sort of. It’s not like it’s a big deal. Gotta give the younger guys a chance, right?”

“And the club don’t mind you taking off like this?”

“Took some personal time. They understand. Besides, Suga-san was in touch about a commercial. Never know, you could be looking at Japan’s next top model,” he joked and sucked in his cheeks.

The club had understood. In fact, they’d understood too well, telling Yuu to take as much time as necessary. And that’s when reality had hit. He was replaceable.

He was known for his dependability, his loud personality shored up many a rearguard. But in life he attacked – he always had – to cover up the holes in his own defence.

“Kinda like you, right, Ace?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Taking off from your job. Have they really held it open for you?”

Asahi’s eyes flickered and he looked down at his hands. And then he raised one of them, ruffling the back of his hair in that self-deprecating way of his. For no matter how successful he became, he’d always have that streak of humility running through him.

“I resigned. I’d had enough.” He inhaled, dropped his hands and stood firm facing Yuu. “I have nothing lined up. And the job came with a room, so I don’t have that either.”

“Hey, I have things lined up. I can ... uh ... like there’s other clubs. And it’s not like I’ve been let go. They’re just giving them a chance, that’s all. I’ve not quit!”

Asahi smiled. His special, gentle smile, the one he’d used on Emi when she was crying about her knee. A knowing smile, but one that wasn’t going to probe too much.

“What’s your plan then, Ace-san?”

“Not sure, but maybe it’s time this crow returned to the nest.”

 

***

The rain wasn’t easing.

Still sat in the front seats, both Suga and Daichi were listening to the radio and staring out into the gloom.

At least the lightning had stopped, but Suga had always liked storms (as long as he wasn’t getting wet) finding them exciting.

What he was more concerned about was their inability to move.

“Maybe we should go back the way we came,” he suggested, then bit his lip because they’d gone over this ten minutes previously and not come up with a definitive answer.

If Daichi was irritated, he didn’t show it, but clasped Suga’s hand warming it in his own. “I don’t think it will make a difference. Longer journey and I can’t guarantee none of it’s downhill.”

“So we wait it out,” Suga said, his teeth chattering despite the scarf.  Or maybe it was because of the scarf, which had soaked up so much rain and was now blotting it onto his neck.  He unwound it, hoping it would make a difference, but the chill continued.

Daichi groaned and banged his fist on the dash. “Sorry. This was a fucking shit idea!”

“No, noooo, it wasn’t. It really wasn’t, Dai.”

“Should have taken you for lunch, somewhere swanky like you wanted and then we’d have been back and home and catching up with Asahi,” Daichi spat, annoyed, Suga knew, with himself more than anything.

“No, this is a great idea!  I love that you thought about it, and even if it’s not quite the nostalgia trip you wanted, it’s still –”  he stifled a yawn, the cold reminding him how tired he actually was  “- been a memorable day.”

“Memorably bad,” Daichi muttered. He huffed out his cheeks. “Remind me never to listen to Tooru again.”

“Huh, what’s Tooru got to do with it?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I just remembered a conversation with him a month or so back and he was talking about coming to this beach with Hajime.” He sighed and rested his head back on the seat, closing his eyes. “’Course, they came in the Summer, and I get the feeling it wasn’t just walking they got up to.”

“Tooru’s been here,” Suga questioned. He peered out the window and through the rain still cascading down, twisting his head right round, looking for something – anything – to explain why Tooru would have come here in the first place.

And there it was, a glimpse in the rain, like an oasis in the desert (he smiled at the analogy because it was far from dry today, but there was something apt and hopeful, a way of rescuing the day).

“AH HA!” He tugged Daichi’s arm.

It didn’t look much. Hardly a mirage, but if he could get Daichi, whose eyesight was that much better, to look.

“What is it?” Daichi sounded weary.

“I can’t see Tooru wanting to make out on a beach,” Suga said, starting to giggle. “He’d complain about sand in his pants for one thing.”

“And your point is?” Daichi asked grumpily.

“Look.”

Daichi opened his eyes, stared into Suga’s and then followed the direction his finger was pointing, across the sodden grass to where there was a bend in the road, lined by trees and a tumbledown wall. Discreet. Hidden from view, unless you were really looking.

“It’s a barn or something. It’s deserted.”

“Look again. There’s a light that flashes every so often.”

“So ... OH! I can see it. It’s neon. It’s a sign. Like a heart or something... ” He leant across Suga, straining his seatbelt. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Very probably. Why else would Tooru have hinted about it?”

Daichi’s hand was back in his, a thumb rubbing Suga’s palm. “It is cold in here,” he reasoned.

“And it would be warmer in there.”

“I _could_ put the seat warmers on.”

“That would drain the battery, and I really don’t think we should take that risk,” Suga said, his eyes widening with innocence.

“Wonder if they take credit cards?”

“Doubt it. The whole point is that sort of establishment is supposed to be discreet.” Suga stuck out his tongue, licking the top of his lip, aware of Daichi’s breath quickening on his neck. “I have been to the cashpoint.”

“So have I. How much do you reckon it would be?”

“How would I know? We’ve not used one for years!”

“Then, Koushi,” Daichi murmured, his lips nuzzling Suga’s ear, “I declare it our duty to find out.”

***

The message from Daichi came through after five. With the rain still pouring, they were waiting for it to subside, not wishing to risk being stuck in the mud.

Asahi texted back that there was no problem. He could easily cook for Emi, and put her to bed if necessary.

**< <She’s running around in a replica kit Noya brought her, yelling ‘Rolling Thunder’ so maybe he’ll tire her out. >>**

There was a delay in the reply.

_< <Ha ha – great. We’ve holed up in a cafe. Signal’s not strong. Back as soon as we can. >>_

**< <It’s all good here. >>**

And it was. 

“Emi-chan, Chicken Karaage,” he called out, checking the fridge to see what they’d got in. “Omurice or ramen? Which would you like?”

No answer. He poked his head round the door to see her engrossed in a show with Noya.

“Emi-chan, what would you like for your tea?” he tried again.

“Chockit,” she said immediately.

“Ah, no more chocolate. There’s chicken, or I could make omurice, or would you like ramen?”

Tilting her head to the side, eyes still on the screen, she considered. “Emi like ramen.”

“Good. Shall I add broccoli?”

“Yes, pweas!”

“And a load of meat for me, Ace-san, if you’re asking.”

“Already on it,” Asahi murmured.

He was happy cooking. Everything had its place in the kitchen and he was free to improvise when alone and not being harangued by waiters and managers or pestered by underlings to learn something new.  He didn’t begrudge teaching – it was actually one of the better parts of his job – but in the high-pressure world where speed was everything, he’d not been able to give his best even if he gave it his all and ten percent more.

Alone he could concentrate. By himself, he could enjoy anew the smell of fresh ingredients, the satisfying sound of a knife slicing into a pepper, and the salt taste of soy licked off his fingertip.

The pan sizzled, he tossed in some chicken for Noya, broccoli for Emi and porcini mushrooms for himself.

It was ready; Noya – brooking no protests from Emi – carried her into the kitchen and sat her into the seat. He found the chopsticks, laughing with delight over Emi’s training pair (‘Tigers, huh?  That’s real cool!’) and pulled up a chair by her side.

“Asahi-san is a great chef, Emi-chan,” he stage whispered. “So we’re in for a big treat.”

“It’s just ramen,” Asahi said, bringing the large serving dish to the table. “Put some in a bowl for her will you, Noya?”

“Sure.”

He dished up, and to Asahi it didn’t look as if Noya had done anything wrong, even making Emi laugh as he swirled the noodles into her bowl, picking out some broccoli florets to stick into the ramen, finishing with a flourish as he added the chicken and garnished with a mushroom.

But Emi looked down at it. The chopsticks were in her hand; she was sucking at the tiger’s ear, not doing anything but stare at the food in front of her.

“Is it too hot?” Asahi asked. “You can blow on it first.” He demonstrated, holding a piece of chicken up to his mouth.

Emi scowled. “No ramen. Emi want omurice.”

“Uh ... you said ramen,” Asahi began.

“You did, Emi-chan. Now eat up,” Noya jumped in. He began to eat, slurping the noodles into his mouth. “This is yummy.”

“Want omurice!” she complained. “Emi like egg!”

“Okay.”Asahi pushed his chair back, went to the fridge for some eggs and pulled out some left over rice. An omelette would hardly take long and was nutritious. Maybe he had misheard, or Emi hadn’t understood. She couldn’t eat something she didn’t like, and the way Noya was demolishing his food, he’d polish off any leftovers.

The omurice was made in a flash, and stuffed with some chicken he picked out of the ramen, he served it on a plate to Emi.

“Ketchup?” he asked.

She nodded. “Lots!”

Giving her the bottle, he watched as she tried to squeeze, getting more and more frustrated. And in the end, when Noya leant across it didn’t take much persuasion for her to hand over the sauce.

“Let’s do a zigzag, Emi,” Noya murmured, and trailed the ketchup across the omurice.

He did it slowly, watching her face. “Is that enough?”

Shaking her head, Emi tried to grab the bottle again, so Noya continued to squeeze, going back on his original lines much a baker icing a cake, or a barista embellishing the latte foam.

“More, more!” she said, getting excited.

Noya complied, now laughing a little with her, until the surface of the omelette was more red than yellow.

“There you go, Emi-chan!

She studied it, picked up her chopsticks and poked it a little.

“Shall I cut it up?” Asahi asked.

She pushed the plate away, frowning even deeper. “Yucky! Emi not like!”

“Hey, you said you wanted it!” Noya said, probably more outraged at the abuse of food than Emi’s capricious nature.

“No, no, no! Don’t want egg. Don’t like omurice. Emi wants chicken!”

“There’s no more chicken,” Asahi tried to reason. “But there’s some in the ramen, and there’s some in the omelette.” He cut into it, displaying the filling, hoping this would placate her, but only served to enrage her more.

“NO  ketup. Emi wants chicken!”

“Here, kid,” Noya said, trying not to snap. “Have some of mine.” And he picked his chicken out of his bowl, placing it all on the side of her pate. “Look, it’s all for you.”

She stopped crying, glared at him then reached out with her chopsticks to pick up a chunk of chicken.

It slipped out of the chopsticks’ grip and onto the floor.

“Noooooooo!”

Immediately, Noya bent down “No problem. I’ll just pick it up! It’s fine!”

“No, no, nooo, it’s yucky now.” Her arms flailed and the chopsticks flew across the kitchen sending her into more paroxysmal sobs. “Emi not want it!”

 “What the fu-”

“Nishinoya!” Asahi yelped. “Language!”

He glared, then stiffening his shoulders, he continued through gritted teeth, “What the ‘heck’, the kid’s hungry. She asked for ramen, then omurice and now wants chicken. What’s her problem?”

“Hey, Emi,” Asahi soothed, using his most gentle of voices, and reaching out to stroke her hair. “It’s okay. I’m going to wash your chopsticks, and then you can try another bit of chicken.”

“Don’t.”

She took in a deep breath.

“Want.”

Another breath.

“Chicken.” She was shaking her face scrunched up and pink with exertion and rage.

“Well, that’s just taking the piss now!” Noya grumbled. He snorted at Asahi. “Sorry, it’s taking the pee-pee.”

Emi sniffed and her face uncreased. “Pee pee.”

And despite it all. Despite the sudden tantrum that had flared from nowhere, and the weight of responsibility he felt for looking after his best friends’ child, Asahi felt his lips twitch.

“Full of mischief, I wonder where you get that from,” Noya said wryly, and then as Emi began to chant ‘pee-pee’, he laughed, full throttled as he clutched his belly.

Distracted – again – when Asahi returned the chopsticks to her, Emi picked up some chicken and put it in her mouth. With a little prompting, she also tried the omurice, before finally twirling some noodles above her head and sucking them into her mouth.

_Success._

 It was after they’d finished, when the three of them were sitting together in the lounge – Emi engrossed in a DVD as she clutched her kangaroos and snuggled on Asahi’s lap – that Noya started to talk.

Words fell out of him.

“When I signed for Nagasaki last year, I wanted it to be the club I ended my career with, but kinda thought I had another three or four years. Thing is, though I’m stronger, taller, fitter than I was at High School, I’m older. Less limber.” He grimaced. “And that shows.”

“You’re still one of the best,” Asahi said, but he knew that wasn’t enough. “If you left another team would snap you up.”

“Yeah, I know, but for how long? I got a year or two at the most of first team play. I have to think of my future, too. I’ve got a place in Nagasaki for now, and they’ve suggested I could move to coaching.”

“That’s good, isn’t it? It doesn’t sound like they want to ditch you, Noya.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe I wanna ditch them.” He stared at Emi, his eyes softening at the corners.  “Thing is, I’ve hopped around this country a lot and abroad – bit like Emi-chan’s kangaroo, but ... uh ... I’m a crow and they need a nest, right? Maybe it’s time I started building one.”

At the mention of her name, Emi had flopped off Asahi’s lap and made it across the sofa to Asahi’s bouncing the baby roo over his arm.

“Maybe I could marry you, sweet-pea?” he joked.

She screwed up her nose, considering, then let out a sigh and shook her head. “Emi marry Shimizu-san.”

With a wry grin, Noya chuckled. “You’ll probably have a lot more success with that than I ever did.”

“You want a family?” Asahi asked, not joining in the laughter. It was something he’d thought about over the years, concluding that the reason he’d buried himself in his work was just so he could avoid any decision.

Which in itself was a decision.

Nishinoya had immersed himself in volleyball and while he’d had both girlfriends and boyfriends, he’d never committed to anyone, not needing to be ‘tied down’ he’d once said.

Perhaps the years had given him more than age, not just maturity but a yearning for someone in his life.

However, Noya shrugged. “Nothing that drastic. No burning need, but I’d kinda like a home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more chapter, but while you wait for it, why not read some of Noemi's stories and leave a comment.


	4. turn to me and smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The secrets of a Love Hotel
> 
> and has Noya met his match?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter of this story, written for the amazing Noemi, whose stories leave me as breathless as Suga leaves Daichi.

They ran, or rather slid and squelched across the field, heading straight for the hotel, laughter tripping out of their mouths. The last time Suga had ever had the pleasure of a place like this had been long ago in Miyagi.  In the days after graduation, they’d escaped the clutches of school and driven off to a rather inoffensive looking concrete block of a building. They’d had enough money for an hour, had chosen the cheapest of rooms – clean and serviceable futons on the floor and a jug of water on the side. The curtains had been thin, but then the windows were narrow with tinted glass, so why they’d bothered to cover them, Suga had never found out.

“Remember the last time?” Suga whispered as they approached the reception counter.

Daichi was dripping, water shimmering like diamonds in his hair, but despite the soaking, his smile was as bright as sunshine.

_He looks eighteen again._

“I remember the smell,” Daichi hissed. “They’d lit joss sticks. Very musky.”

Returning his grin, Suga flipped through a reservations book, perusing the photos depicting each room.

There were eight. One was basic – he dismissed that. One had a huge heartshaped bed and surrounded by vases of flowers, which would probably make Daichi sneeze. Another was sea themed – he hastily sped past that, knowing Daichi didn’t need any excuse to make shrimp jokes.  He turned the page and began to laugh.

The bed was small, a single, probably, and the rest of the furniture wouldn’t have looked out of place in a schoolroom, which he guessed when he saw the uniform hanging up was the whole point of the experience. There was also a cage in the middle of the room, chains on the floor.

“Not that one!” Daichi warned. “I’m not sure you’ll let me leave.”

“You don’t want to be locked in a cage in a school girl’s uniform? Wow, I wonder if that’s where Tooru and Hajime went.”

“Don’t make me think of them. It’s putting me right off.”

He flipped to the next picture.

_Oh._

“Dai, how about this one?”

Daichi glanced at the page, then he studied closer. A slow lazy smile replaced the lascivious smirk. “Yeah, I like that.”

He paid, handing over money through a shuttered counter. A hand emerged, took the bundle of notes, counted them then handed over a card key. Taking it, Daichi took Suga’s hand, and together they scooted down the corridor to find their room.

Suga groped for the light switch, turned the dial and then they both waited, breath bated, for the room to appear before them.

It was white, but a soft white, nothing harsh and glaring. Lights twinkled, dimmed by long muslin curtains, screening off a clam shell- shaped bed, piled with plump cushions and fluffy pillows. Set in an archway, which looked to have been carved from stone, it gave the appearance of a cave, one bedecked with sumptuous luxury.

“Aphrodite’s Retreat,” Daichi whispered.

“I’m glad it’s not dripping water,” Suga replied.

“We’re wet enough.”

“OH!  Look!”

“What? Daichi swung around.”

“There’s a big TV on the wall. Wow, that’s impressive.”

“Sugawara Koushi, we did not pay a stupid sum of money to watch TV!”

“But,” Suga whispered, “it’s been so long since we’ve been allowed to watch television in the afternoon that isn’t Peppa Pig.”

“Too bad. Get on that bed. I’m going to - ... Oh ... dammit!”

In the gloom, Daichi’s face was cloaked, but a dappling of light showed a slight frustration, and a debate going on in his head.

“What’s the matter?”

“Left something in the car. I’ll be back.”

“Daichi!”

“I’ll run all the way there and all the way back.”

“It can’t be that important, can it?” Suga protested, but to empty air.

Daichi was gone, leaving Suga alone.

He was cold and wet, still in his suit and tie, and a coat heavy with water. He unbuttoned it, letting it hang over a chair, removed his socks and shoes and padded back to the bed.

Stepping over to the bed,  he touched the coverlet. A shiver of anticipation ran through him.

For the sheets were satiny and warm.

Daichi would be back soon. Whatever he’d gone to get, he’d said he wouldn’t be long, but they’d paid for time in here, so every minute was to be enjoyed.

The bed glimmered, the lights behind the curtains a kaleidoscope of colours, inviting him in.  He slipped off the rest of his clothes and slid onto the bed, luxuriating in the feel of silk against his skin.

A warm breeze of air brought a flush to his face. As he lay back, wondering whether to get under the sheets, or whether to stay atop and greet Daichi, he noticed one more thing.

The mirror on the ceiling.

_Is that going to be off-putting?_ he wondered. _When Daichi touches me, will I be enjoying it, or staring at myself._

He smiled up at the his reflection, giggling at the fact that he was already semi tumescent at the thought of Daichi, and then placed his hand on his leg.  Daichi’s hands were softer than when he’d played volleyball regularly, but they were still dryer than Suga’s had ever been, and had a rasp to them that caught a little on his skin. Suga ran his nails up his thigh, all the while watching in the mirror, wondering at the various shades of embarrassment and when he’d feel he had to close his eyes.

He thought about the blackness of Daichi’s hair and the tan of his skin in perfect contrast to the ivory white of these sheets. Laid out and waiting for Suga.

His cock twitched, involuntarily and Suga laughed on seeing the movement up above.  He rolled over, wondering what he looked like from behind, but he was now so hard merely thinking about the hour ahead, that it was uncomfortable.

He’d been alone for ten minutes. It felt like hours.

_Dammit, Daichi, where are you?_

And he was also getting cold. He could slip under the sheets, the fluffy pillow looked exquisitely enticing, but as he stretched out for it, drawing it to his head, he caught sight of his reflection.

“It’s Queen Fluffiana!” he said, in fits of giggles as he got on his knees and started to pose. He stretched out his hand, pretending his nails were claws and mewed at the mirror.

The act of moving had made the curtains flutter and in the corner of the room, lit with blue fairy lights, he spied something else.

“Oooh, interesting,” he murmured, clutching the cushion against his groin, he prowled across to investigate. “Now that will warm me up, won’t it?”

He leant over an oval bath, quite large enough for two or even three, inspected the bath oils and samples of bubble bath, selected one, then turned on the taps.

Soon he’d slipped into the water, bubbles sliding over his skin, their warmth caressing.

It had been a while since he’d had an uninterrupted bath. Emi, however adorable she was, had this sixth sense whenever he tried to slope off, and he could guarantee that as soon as he’d shut the bathroom door, he’d hear a cry and then five tiny fingers would creep under the door, badgering him to open up.

“This is heaven,” he sighed, and plunged under the water.

***

Of all the time to stumble, this was not it. On court he’d been steady, sure-footed (apart from the time Tanaka crashed into him), but running to the car, the rain still coming down in sheets, Daichi should have been more careful.

He skidded, his heel catching in a tuft of sodden grass and then went arse over tit into the mud, only managing to right himself at the last minute by straddling his legs.

“Fucking hell!” he growled as he slid a touch more gracefully to the ground, before he levered himself up. His clothes had taken most of the punishment, he was relieved to see, because he couldn’t see Suga happy if he returned caked in mud.

_Although if I suggested it was mud wrestling, he’d probably go for that._

Gingerly he limped to the car, rubbing a slight twinge in his leg, relieved it wasn’t worse.  From the car boot, he removed a bag, checked its contents, grinned, and started to trudge back.

There was a small toilet area in reception, so he washed his hands and took a moment to check his reflection, rubbing off one smear of mud. He checked his phone – no messages – but he’d taken a good twenty minutes to get there and back, and time was ticking on.

Texting quickly that they were waiting the storm out, he hurried through the reception area. Asahi’s message came back immediately, and he laughed at the thought of Emi running Noya ragged.

_She’s fine._

**< <It’s all good here.>> **Asahi said.

_Shall I?_ he wondered, and twisted back, staring at the screen hiding the clerk.

“Hey,” he said.

“What is it?”

“The Aphrodite room.”

“No refunds. You paid for an hour, not my fault you’ve finished already,” she sneered.

He could hear her turning the pages of a magazine, bored with life and not at all willing to listen to any possible problem.

“It’s not that.”

“Take it up with the management!”

“I want to pay for another hour, that’s all. Can I?”

“Sure. No one else here.”

He handed over the money and sauntered (or rather squished) back to Suga.

The first thing he realised when he got there was that Suga had gone. Expecting him sprawled on the bed, or maybe posed under the covers and probably not that happy at being kept waiting, Daichi had prepared an apology. But there was no one in the bed, although a bundle of clothes had been draped over a radiator and appeared to be steaming dry, adding to the atmosphere in the room.

_He can’t have gone far._

“Sug?”

“Ah, the wanderer returns,” Suga said, his voice silky smooth and lazy.

He didn’t sound at all annoyed. Relaxed even.

“You really should join me, Captain.”

“I would ... but ... uh ... where are you?”

“Follow the steam.”

Huh?

And then he heard a small splash and a lilting giggle, and spinning on his heel, he indeed followed the drift of steam hazed around blue light and he stopped breathing.

Suga was beautiful. He noticed it most days, in the same way he noticed if the sun was shining. It was a fact, one that on occasions made Daichi feel clumpy and awkward and as if he were punching well above his weight, but most of the time he counted himself fortunate because he knew compatibility and love wasn’t based on looks.  There was also the other fact that living alongside Suga for so many years had somewhat acclimatised him, but then again there were moments when he truly felt as if all the air had been punched out of his lungs.

This was one of those moments. He’d left a drenched Suga, with chattering teeth, and bundled up in a thick coat. He’d returned to a Suga covered in bubbles, bubbles that shimmered, iridescent over his pearly skin, the blue light casting an ethereal light as if none of this was quite real.

In sodden clothes, mud splattered jeans, and a muscle in his thigh that was still twinging, Daichi felt altogether the luckiest man in the universe, and also the most unworthy.

Suga grinned. “What did you have to get from the car? I hope it was worth it as we’ve only got forty minutes left.”

It was Daichi’s turn to grin. “Make that one hour and forty minutes. I’ve just handed over some more cash.”

“Captain!  How extravagant, but what will we do for the other hour and thirty minutes?”

“You are pushing it, Koushi.”

Suga winked and submerged himself, reappearing with bubbles popping in his hair. As Daichi got closer, he could smell vanilla and roses swirling in the air.

“You’ll need to get undressed,” Suga chirped. “Or I’ll pull you in and then your clothes will never dry.”

“One second,” Daichi murmured. “There’s one thing missing from this picture.”

“Hmm?”

With a smirk, Daichi opened up the bag. “Fancy a drink?”

“Ohh, champagne!” he wriggled up the bath, leaning over the rim, to clutch Daichi’s trouser leg. “What a lovely idea. Where did you get it from?”

“I brought it with me. We were supposed to share this on the beach, although you’d have had most of it, and then I’d have driven us home while you dozed off.”

With a flourish he pulled out two glasses, plastic it was true, but they were blue a transparent blue, perfectly matching the light gleaming around them.

With a pop, sending the cork across the room, Daichi poured Suga a glass and himself a half glass, letting the bubbles settle before he topped them up. “To you,” he intoned, clinking his glass to Suga’s. “For a successful project and proving yet again how brilliant you are at your job.”

“To you,” Suga replied, “for putting up with my foul moods, and taking the stress away.” He sipped the champagne, letting out a contented sigh. “And now, get in this bath, Sawamura, or I will drag you in.”

He turned away, aware he was unsexily easing off jeans that clung to his skin, then his shirt and jumper, arranging them on the radiator.

“Hey, have you gone shy on me, Daichi?” Suga said, laughing. “I wanted the whole striptease.”

Twisting around, he made his way to the bath, reaching for his glass and gulping down the rest of the champagne. Suga was staring at him, a curious look in his eye. The bubbles were popping on the surface of the water, and in the darkened room, with only the twinkling of blue stars, Daichi could see Suga’s form, the slimness of his leg, the jut of his hips and the dip of his waist.

Still as lithe as he’d been at eighteen.

_I should go to the gym more. Jogging isn’t cutting it._

“You’ll catch your death if you stand there much longer,” Suga murmured.  

He reached out with his free hand, clasping Daichi’s fingers and tugging him closer. But as Daichi made to get in the bath, Suga stopped him with a laugh.

“You’re still dressed,” he whispered.

“Oh...” Daichi blinked realising he had his underpants on, and made to take them off.

But Suga was sitting up in the bath now, both hands outstretched as he looped his thumbs into the elastic of Daichi’s boxer shorts, giving one quick yank.

Daichi’s throat dried as Suga’s hands crept around his ass, fingers digging in his cheeks, then cupping to pull him ever closer. 

“Hello,” murmured Suga as he pecked a kiss on Daichi’s stomach. “What do we have here?”

He didn’t think Suga expected much of an answer, especially when he moved again causing his chin to rub against his groin. He felt his cock twitch in response, for no matter how cold he got, Suga had his own special way of warming him up in every sense.

He’d pouted his lips, smoothing kisses further down, then began to lap his tongue on the tip of Daichi’s cock. Daichi groaned and closed his eyes, waiting, waiting, waiting, for Suga’s next move.

His tongue continued its teasing, and then Suga parted his mouth, and smoothed his lips down, pushing and sucking increasing the pressure as Daichi let out a groan.

He thought his legs would buckle, and knew he needed to hold on to something to stop his collapse, but Daichi also knew Suga so very well, and in this mood he’d want to tease a while longer. If Daichi so much as betrayed any weakness, he’d be relinquished.

He was hardening in Suga’s mouth. It was embarrassing how predictable he was. A slight bit of attention and he was putty in Suga’s hands – or any part of his anatomy that so much as paid his cock any attention. It wasn’t only the sense of touch causing the gentle fuzz of light behind his eyelids, but the thought of what they’d do, what Suga would do to him, what he would do for Suga, that sent his imagination into overdrive.

But this was too quick. This would leave him spent far too soon, and though he’d be quite happy spending the rest of their time there, devoting himself to Suga’s body, he didn’t want this to end quite so early.

 “Down boy.” Suga released him, staring up, a slick smirk on his lips. “Wow, you’re ready aren’t you?”

“Hmm.” He tried to organise a coherent thought, but the sight of Suga’s tongue and a smearing of bubbles on his chest were unhinging his words.  “You have no idea the effect you have on me, have always had on me.”

The smirk disappeared. Suga rocked back on his haunches, causing the water to slop around the bath. “And you have no idea how gratifying it is to hear that,” he muttered.

“Huh?”

Suga swished up the bath, moving his legs, and holding out his hand to let Daichi in. He stepped in, sank to his knees, then stretched out alongside Suga.

“What did you mean by gratifying?” Daichi asked.

Suga’s hand fluttered to his hair, twiddling some strands with his fingers. “I’ve was thinking about you, about us, when you ran off to the car. I was imagining us in bed and how we’d ... uh ... look together. Or rather I was thinking about you, and your broad chest.” His fingers began to tease at Daichi’s chest hair, tracing patterns across his body as he talked. “And your muscular arms. Your thighs and –” He mock wiped his brow, half smiling, but then he stopped the grin, and snuggled closer, not quite looking in Daichi’s eyes. “Then you came in, and I was watching you take your clothes off, and I felt like that dumb school kid again, sneaking looks at his teammate, barely able to keep my hands to myself.”

With a grin, Daichi gathered Suga in his arms, the water splashing between them. “You never showed that much restraint!”

“Ha! I could say the same about you, Mr Pounce-on-your-boyfriend-as- soon-as-everyone’s-left-the-changing room. Not sure Kinoshita ever recovered seeing you shirtless and sweaty.” Tilting his face up, Suga aimed a kiss at Daichi’s bicep. “Can’t say I blame him. I’ve not recovered either.”

And Daichi marvelled how Suga had this prescience for saying exactly the right thing, at _exactly_ the right time. He moved his hand from Suga’s waist, sliding up until he’d cupped his chin, and then very softly dropped a kiss on his temple. With his lips he nuzzled a path down Suga’s nose, deviating to kiss first one cheek, then the other, finding his chin (a little scratchy with stubble)before settling on his mouth.

He tasted of bubbles and champagne, a potent mix of effervescent sensuality. Daichi hesitated a touch, and then, as he pressed a little harder, Suga parted his lips, raised his hand to Daichi’s neck and pushed his fingertips through the thatch of his hair.

He was dragging with his nails, scratching at Daichi’s scalp as his tongue slipped and slid inside Daichi’s mouth and his teeth nipped at his lips.

And it was good, so good, this closeness, this nothing between them, the bareness of each other’s skin, the only barrier a thin film of water and a swirl of steam.

“That’s better,” Suga whispered, breaking them apart.”

“What is?” Daichi grumbled, searching for his mouth again.

Suga moved his hand downwards, resting on Daichi’s hipbone, his thumb beginning to rub small circles on his skin.

“We should be wallowing in this bath, not nostalgia,” he explained, then pecked him on the nose. “It’s not like you, Daichi.”

“I’m counting blessings, that’s all,” Daichi replied. And then he grinned, and grabbing Suga, he slid underneath him and clutched his ass. “But, no more. I’m going to concentrate on the present, and the immediate future.”

The water was lapping, small ripples slopping over the side, and then the waves became rhythmic as Suga, perfect pink tongue poking between his teeth, began to slide. Up and down, up and down.

Sinking further under the water, Daichi grasped Suga to him, then hooked his leg around Suga’s waist, clamping him in place as they rocked together. He was erect, and could feel Suga hardening against him, and the aphrodisiacal power of being wanted spurring both of them on.

But they were in a bath.

True it was warm and with the addition of scented bath oil it was slippy and inviting, but it was still a bath full of water, which wasn’t exactly conducive to ...

Suga was still rubbing against him, his eyes sleepy but open in that dangerous way of his where Daichi was never quite sure what he’d do next, what he’d suggest next, what he’d make happen.

He gurgled out a laugh.

At least Daichi had thought it was a laugh, but as the air around his knees began to cool, he realised Suga had removed the plug and the glistening water was disappearing fast.

“Bath towels,” he said, sounding practical, and levered himself off Daichi. He got out, leaving Daichi stranded as the water slid off his body, and padded across to a towel rail. “Dry off a little and then we can try out the bed.”

With a towel around his waist, Daichi joined Suga on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he murmured, and taking another towel, he began to dry Suga’s hair, rubbing gently and not the way he attacked his own – far shorter – crop.  His hands slipped to Suga’s shoulders, working through any knots – although it seemed the bath had done him the world of good for he sank back into Daichi, not wincing as he usually did when Daichi encountered a tender spot. 

There was a small mole on his neck, more of a freckle really, and Daichi placed his lips to it, kissing reverently before nuzzling his shoulder.

A deep sigh emerged from Suga, and a lazy smile of contentment lit his features as he tilted his head right back. The smile deepened, even as his eyes closed, and he nudged Daichi.

“Have you seen what’s above us, Captain?”

“Hmm?” Daichi was still nuzzling Suga’s arm, not sure he wanted to break off from the sweet taste of his skin.

“Look,” Suga whispered, and pulled away.

Expecting a painting, Daichi reluctantly flicked his head back, and then he swallowed. Their reflection stared down on them, Suga, in perfect pearlescence, the white towel loosening around his waist, drops of water still gleaming on his skin, and himself, the dark sky to Suga’s starlight.

_I’m doomed._

“Ha – that you are,” Suga replied.

“I said that aloud.”

“Your face said it all.” Suga turned around, kneeling between Daichi’s legs, and pressed his hands into Daichi’s shoulders. “Why don’t you lie back and I’ll get everything ready?” Pecking a kiss on Daichi’s temple, he slid away from him, and – much to Daichi’s chagrin – tightened the towel around his waist. “You know how much you like to see what’s going on.”

But Daichi didn’t lie down. Catching Suga’s arm, he pulled him back towards him, then planted his lips of Suga’s stomach. Suga wriggled, but not to get away, more that he was trying to decide what to do, whether to give in and forget whatever plan was going through his head.

“I want to spoil you,” Daichi murmured. “I want to treat you. Whatever you want.”

“You are. You will,” Suga whispered, and moving his hands down, he tugged at the towel around Daichi’s waist.

Daichi relinquished him and lay back on the bed. His reflection stared down at him, almost mocking the signs of obvious arousal, and his single state on the bed. He ran a hand down his thigh, but it didn’t feel as good as when Suga touched him.

“Hey, no getting ahead of yourself,” Suga called from across the room.

His cheeks were dimpling as he walked – no, there was only one word for it – as he ‘sashayed’ across the room, hips swaying as he gathered up several items.

“Champagne,” Suga said, retrieving the bottle and the glasses. “And look what I found. These places are incredibly well-prepared.”

The condom packet landed with a flump on Daichi’s abdomen. He went to pick it up, but Suga tutted, and there was a smile on his face.

“Who said that was for you?” he murmured, sitting on the edge of the bed. He poured two more glasses.

“I can’t drink much more,” Daichi said, focusing on the practicalities because Suga’s implication was making his head spin. “Not if I’m driving.”

“And who said you were going to drink this?” Suga replied.

He took a sip, smacking his lips together and then, holding the glass over Daichi, he tipped it to the side, letting it trickle across Daichi’s chest.

It was cold, especially after the hot bath, but Daichi didn’t have time to shiver before Suga’s mouth, his warm lips and tongue had begun to lick at his skin, sucking up the champagne.

He felt another cold splash, a little further down, and groaned as Suga again smoothed downwards, drinking Daichi in a very literal sense.

“Can you see all this?” Suga asked.

He’d forgotten about the mirror, but seeing Suga peeking up at him, he complied, staring at the scene above. Suga’s silken skin looked like ivory against the burnt umber tan of his own body, his silver blonde hair shining like diamonds on velvet. The contrast intriguing, exciting.

Suga’s hands were moving. Daichi’s sense of touch appeared to be ahead of his sight because his skin was tingling long before his fingers reached Daichi’s groin. The champagne was trickling now, seeping down until it touched his cock.

And then Suga peered up at him again, with eyes wide with innocence, his tongue appearing between his even teeth.

“I’m going to die,” Daichi moaned, as Suga’s tongue started its exploration. “And I don’t even care.”

Suga nibbled at his thigh, lips pressing into the soft flesh, and then he planted a series of kisses before hesitating – just a fraction.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mmm.”

Suga’s fingers, slick with lube dappled across his ass. “Sure?”

His stomach contracted. “Mmhmm.”

And then he felt Suga’s thumb, slippery and moist, slide inside his entrance. It had been a while, and he automatically caught his breath.

“Relax,” Suga whispered, and bent over Daichi, letting his hair tickle his cock.

No longer aware of time, Daichi pressed his head into a fluffy pillow, and lifted his buttocks off the bed as Suga inserted a finger, slow and never jabbing, his eyes constantly on Daichi’s face, waiting as he relaxed into the stretch.

His eyelids were heavy, like lead, but he kept them open, watching the scene, watching his own transportation, as Suga’s expert manipulation left him on the juddering edge of climax.

“I’m ready,” he mumbled.

“For what?” Suga’s voice was amused, his eyes innocent, but he began to withdraw, and Daichi heard the rustle of the condom wrapper as he tore it open.

From a slow start  -  Suga entering with gentleness and utmost patience, diligent to everything Daichi required - there came a time where it all changed. Daichi half -watching in the mirror pinpointed the moment, from the arch of Suga’s back, the quiver of his shoulders and the sheen of sweat across his satin skin. He thrust with more vigour, and the apology dropping from his lips sounded faint and rasping a sorry for something he could no longer control. Daichi grabbed Suga’s waist, and with his feet flat on the bed, knees bent, he bucked his hips.

“Go on,” he urged.

Suga flung back his head, his reflection poured down on them, expression dream, eyes glassy, lips moving as he keened nonsensical words over and over.

 “Fuck!”

He shot into Daichi, screwing up his face before collapsing across his chest, breathless and sweating, his stomach warm and soft and slick on Daichi’s still tumescent cock.

“Sorry,” Suga groaned eventually.

He tried to roll off, but Daichi clamped him in place. “What for?” he whispered into Suga’s ear.

“I couldn’t hold on. You’re so good at this. So unselfish, able to delay until ...” Suga muffled his voice into Daichi’s neck, his breathing becoming more even. “I should put that right.”

“You don’t have –” Daichi began to say but then his cock twitched, and he realised it wasn’t just an involuntary reaction, but Suga moving against him, across and then down.

And now that he looked in the mirror, he saw Suga’s lips pouting on his cock, pressing in, and then his teeth nuzzled his tip, a dangerous slide down the shaft, on the brink of pain and pleasure. But just as Daichi prepared to surrender, Suga broke off. He caught Daichi’s eyes, locked looks, then picked up the full champagne glass, offering a sip to Daichi before downing half. Wordlessly he returned, his mouth was cool around Daichi’s cock and small shivers ran from his groin to his thighs, then up his spine. Suga sucked, using his tongue to swirl, his fingers biting into Daichi’s ass.

He wondered how he could come, how this could possibly end because Suga’s very presence, his actions and _impossible_ smile sent him hard again even as he approached orgasm. Perpetually caught up in sensuality, he pondered the possibility of living in a permanent state of bliss.

Then Suga dug his nails into Daichi’s spine, the action eliciting a gasp and that first sudden jerk. He tried to pull away, feeling the crescendo, but Suga’s mouth held firm, even as his hands relaxed, smoothing to Daichi’s waist, splaying across his stomach.

And he was lost.

 

As Suga rolled alongside him, a highly satisfied smirk on his lips, Daichi, reached across and rested his head on Suga’s chest.

“We definitely get better at this,” he murmured.

Suga chuckled, then dropped a kiss in Daichi’s hair. “Still think we need a lot more practise. Thirty more years should do it.”

“Forty,” countered Daichi.

There was no reply, and listening to Suga’s heart, hearing it return to its steadying thump, Daichi peeked upwards into the mirror. Suga’s eyes were closed.

Slowly disentangling himself, Daichi pulled the covers across Suga’s body.  They had thirty minutes left, and who was he to begrudge Suga sleep?

***

The sound of the key in the door caused Asahi to jump to his feet. He tiptoed out of the lounge, anxious to forestall any loud noises. Of course, he should have known; Suga and Daichi, arriving home had already sussed the silence and were sneaking in, toeing off their shoes in silence as they leant on each other.

It was the happiness that made Asahi smile, as if they were lit up from within. The hesitant Daichi from earlier, looked much more like the boy who’d led them to victory over Shiratorizawa – carefree and on top of his game – his arm slung over Suga’s shoulders.

Suga was yawning, but his eyes widened in delight on seeing Asahi and he rushed across the hallway accepting the hug, and pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, thank you so much,” he said in a low voice. “How has she been?”

“Oh, she’s been fine. Kept us both amused and on our toes,” Asahi said. “She’s asleep right now.”

“Ah, okay.” Suga relaxed.  “You can watch television, you know. She rarely wakes once she’s down.”

“Where’s Nishinoya?” Daichi asked, peering around. “Has he gone?”

Suga span round, peering in the kitchen. “Oh, I’d have liked to see him. Did he leave a message?”

Asahi grinned, and unable to stop the sudden chuckle in his throat, he stepped to the side, gesturing to the lounge.

“Oh!”

Suga’s face split into the widest of smiles, his eyes lit up, and he took not only Daichi’s hand but Asahi’s too, clutching them tight.

Nishinoya Yuu, that most hyperactive of players, defender and guardian deity, nemesis of any ne’er do well ace, was sprawled on the sofa, one arm curled around Emi, the other around the big toy kangaroo. His mouth was open, and a small trickle of drool was escaping from his lips. On his chest, Emi was clutching the baby roo, eyes tight shut and snuffling a little.

“My god,” Suga said, rolling his eyes, “if we’d known the secret to exhausting our Libero was to introduce a small child, we should have employed one for training camp. That way I could have had a lie in!”

Maybe it was his voice, or perhaps his smell, or maybe Emi happened to have a sixth sense where her daddies were concerned, but she wrinkled up her nose, stretched out and then opened her eyes.

She blinked, and began to snuffle, then realising where she was and who was not there, let out a wail.

Arms sped towards her, lifting her up and then close, pecking kisses on her upturned face. “Daddy’s back,” Suga soothed. “And, what is this, Emi-chan? Has Asahi-san bought you a new toy?”

She nodded, still sniffling, before she noticed Daichi and reached over Suga’s shoulder. “Noya voyball ‘bero.”

“Hey, that’s right,” Daichi said, petaling a kiss on her cheek. “And look, he bought you a present, too. Very lucky little girl, aren’t you?”

“Emi be ‘bero!” she said proudly. “RRRRooollling funderrrrrr!”

“HUH!” Noya jerked awake, sitting upright, immediately alert. Then he shook his head, clearing his thoughts and leapt off the sofa. “Suga-san!”  Daichi-san! You’re back!”

“Don’t let us disturb you, Noya,” Daichi joked in his best stern Captain-voice, but Noya was already leaping up, ready for the rest of the evening.

“Hey, there’s my best girl,” he crooned leaning over to Suga to tickle Emi under the arm.

Emi giggled, a shrieking laugh, which made Noya beam. “At last, my charm works,” he declaimed, clutching his heart.  “That makes this trip totally worth it!”

As Daichi took Emi in his arms, holding her high in the air and laughing with her, Suga took control of the conversation. His hand on Noya’s arm, he pulled him back to the sofa and thanked him for Emi’s gift. He indulged in chit-chat, asking questions, offering small bits of information, keeping everything light, but his eyes were boring into Noya, observing every blink, and every nuance of conversation.

_Typical Suga,_ Asahi thought. _Soften him up, lull him into security and then ..._

“So why are you here, Nishinoya?” he asked, then punched him on the arm. “Not that we’re not pleased to have another babysitter, but won’t Nagasaki be needing you tomorrow?”

“Not injured are you?” Daichi asked, taking his cue in a way Asahi knew must have been planned.

“Nothing like that. They’re resting me. Apparently,” Noya muttered. Then he sighed. “Kinda at a crossroads, to tell you the truth, so thought I’d drop in on ya’ll. I can find a hotel, so you don’t have to put me up, ‘specially as Ace-san was here first.”

“I have a room booked for the week,” Asahi said, fluttering his hand. “Need to be back before ten, so maybe I should think about leaving ...”

“Nonsense.” Suga was brisk, turning to Daichi who nodded back. “One of you can sleep in here, and the other can take the futon in Emi’s room.” He reached out for Emi’s hand, nuzzling her fingers. “And our beautiful blessing can share with us, can’t you, Emi-chan? Sleep in Daddies room tonight, yes?”

“With kangaroos,” she said.

“Of course,” Daichi said solemnly.

“Emi play.”

“Go on, then,” he said, setting her onto the floor.

 

 

***

Kangaroos, Emi decided, were her favouritest thing.

That is if you didn’t include her daddies, Queen Fluffiana, her grandma, ‘Sahi-san and now Noya-san.  She bounced them over the floor of her bedroom and wondered where she could take them next.

Not the ducks because naughty goose might be mean and peck them. Maybe they liked swimming. ‘Sahi-san could tell her because he was clever, so she got up from her bedroom, and toddled out to the lounge where he was sitting with her daddies and Noya-san.

“So you’re moving back to Miyagi,” _Da_ ddy was saying.

And he sounded a bit sad.

“Maybe,” Sahi-san replied. “I want to try it for a while. The change of pace will suit me more, and I might even get back into playing.”

“Get in touch with the Coach,” Noya said. He turned his head, noticing her in the door and covered his face with his hands. “Beep-bo, Emi-chan, where’s Noya gone?”

Pretending she hadn’t heard (it was a silly game, she knew perfectly well where Noya-san was because he was on the floor next to Dad _dy.)_ Emi sidled out to the front door. She picked up a shoe, the largest one there, then scampered back to her room.

Noya-san was talking when she got back. He spoke fast so sometimes she had to listen very carefully to try and pick up what he was saying. And he laughed a lot, which made her daddies and ‘Sahi-san laugh too.

“Maybe I’ll take up a career as a child-minder,” he said, grinning. “Me ‘n sweet-pea got on all right, didn’t we?”

“Asahi’s expression says it all,” Dad _dy_ replied, and he turned to Emi, making his eyebrows waggle in the way that made her laugh. “Were you a pest, Emi-chan?”

She was yawning, so couldn’t exactly answer straight away, and much to her annoyance, this seemed to make everyone think she was tired. _Da_ ddy picked her up, declaring it had to be bedtime, and kissed the small tear away she’d squeezed out of her eye.

But she was tired, and being back in _Da_ ddy’s arms, being able to rest her head on his shoulder and feel his soft hair on her face was so good. And when she’d had her bath, cleaned her teeth and had been allowed to wear her favourite pyjamas (blue with lots of fishes and shrimps on them, which Dad _dy_ found very amusing) she didn’t mind at all being put into her daddies’ bed after four goodnight kisses and a bedtime story.  Her eyelids drooped, she clutched her kangaroos and began to dream.

***

Suga was making up the futon in Emi’s room when he found them. Under her pillow, he discovered a shoe – too large for him or Daichi. And underneath that, stuck between the bedhead and the mattress he pulled out a tie – a paisley tie.

“Look what I found,” he called out as he wandered back into the lounge. “I think we have a magpie on our hands.”

“Thief more like,” Daichi joked. “Magpies steal shiny things – which would be more useful.”

“Is that my shoe?” Asahi asked.

“And the tie I was planning to wear to the pitch,” Suga said, nodding.

“Aww, that’s cute,” Noya said.

“Cute that we’re raising a kleptomaniac?”

“Sweet-pea’s no klepto-whatsit,” Noya breezed. He reached across to the table, picking up his beer and took a gulp. Letting out a contented sigh as he swallowed, he seemed surprised that the three of them were staring at him. “She don’t want you guys to leave, does she?” He shrugged. “At least, that’s what I figure, but I’m not exactly an expert.”

“Explains the phone,” Suga said, looking at Daichi.

“And my shoelace,” he replied.

“She’s a sneaky little blessing, isn’t she?”

“Very,” Daichi agreed. “But what do we do about it? We can’t not go out.”

“Take her with you, like the kangaroo,” Noya said, settling back into the sofa.

“We did when she was a baby,” Daichi said, and he was fretting a bit Asahi noticed. “At least, Sug did, but she’s bigger now.”

Suga, however, had relaxed. He hung the tie over the back of the sofa and returned the shoe to the front door, before sauntering back into the lounge.

“It’s fine,” he said, stretching out on the sofa. He clasped Daichi’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “We just need to make sure Emi understands that we always come back.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Noya said, raising his beer bottle and chinking it to Suga’s wine glass.

“Crows,” Asahi said softly.

And Daichi smiled, the tension leaving his shoulders in an instant. He slid next to Suga, half propped on the sofa arm. “We always fly home, especially to take care of our young.”

“Sap!” Suga soft punched him.

But his eyes were gleaming.

 

_'You,_   
_Can dress in pink and blue just like a child_   
_And in a yellow taxi turn to me and smile_   
_We'll be there in just a while_   
_If you follow me'_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song this story was inspired by is Steppin' Out by Joe Jackson. It's a very subtle lovesong about two people who've been together a while and decide to escape for a night. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. Thank you for reading.


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